Autopsy of sylvia likens body
Sylvia Likens
2021.10.19 21:44 BinaryDigit_ Sylvia Likens
Sylvia Marie Likens (January 3, 1949 – October 26, 1965) was an American teenager who was tortured and murdered by her caregiver, Gertrude Baniszewski, many of Baniszewski's children, and several of their neighborhood friends. This abuse incrementally lasted for three months before Likens died from her extensive injuries and malnourishment on October 26 in Indianapolis, Indiana.
2017.09.11 16:24 Anthropomancy
Anthropomancy (from Greek anthropos (ἄνθρωπος, man) and manteia (μαντεία, divination)) is a method of divination by the entrails of dead or dying men or women, often virgin female children, through sacrifice.
2019.03.30 15:35 Are we in hell?
For people who adhere to an obscure philosophical belief system that we might actually be in hell - being punished for something - but aren't sure. Similar in scope to those who believe that life could possibly be a simulation.
2024.05.19 09:40 d_pock_chope_bruh Progenitors
It started with a whisper, a shiver of information that slithered through the corridors of the CIA like a cold, uninvited guest. I was a senior analyst, tasked with sifting through the static and noise of global intelligence. But this—this was different. It was 2009 when the first document crossed my desk, a classified report from the Global Access Program. The title was innocuous: “Unidentified Aerial Phenomena – Preliminary Analysis.” But the content… it was nothing short of extraordinary.
The initial report detailed sightings of craft with capabilities far beyond our own. These weren’t the erratic, drunken movements of weather balloons or the technological marvels of hostile nations. These were intelligent, deliberate maneuvers, the kind that hinted at minds far advanced from ours. It was chilling, but it was only the beginning.
As weeks turned into months, the trickle of information became a flood. Documents stamped with the highest levels of classification described encounters, recoveries, and, most disturbingly, autopsies. The recovered bodies weren’t the little green men of popular culture. They were eerily humanoid, yet undeniably otherworldly. Their skin had a silicon-like quality, translucent and tough, and their eyes—large, dark, and haunting—seemed to pierce through the veil of secrecy we so desperately tried to maintain.
I was part of a small, compartmentalized team, tasked with understanding the implications of these findings. The government’s approach was twofold: reverse-engineer the technology and determine the intentions of these visitors. But as our understanding grew, so did our fear.
One evening, after hours of staring at grainy footage of a UFO darting through the sky over a desolate military base, I received a call. The voice on the other end was panicked, speaking in hushed, frantic tones. It was one of our field operatives, stationed at a classified recovery site. They had just intercepted a transmission. It wasn’t human.
The transmission was a distress signal, but not one of desperation. It was a call to arms. These beings, it seemed, were not just explorers. They were scouts, and their mission was not benign. The transmission hinted at a hive mind, a collective consciousness that controlled these entities. They were here to assess, to probe, and to prepare. For what, we could only speculate.
Days later, another recovery operation took place. A craft was shot down over the Nevada desert, and the bodies retrieved told a horrifying story. They were connected, biologically and technologically, to this hive mind. When one entity was captured, the others knew. When one died, they all felt it. The implications were staggering. We were not just dealing with isolated visitors; we were confronting a unified front.
The more we learned, the more paranoid our superiors became. Orders came down to contain the information at all costs. Whistleblowers were silenced, dissenters disappeared. But the truth was too big to contain. The technology we recovered was decades, if not centuries, ahead of our own. Anti-gravity propulsion, energy sources that defied our understanding of physics, biological materials that healed and adapted.
And then came the darkest revelation. The autopsies revealed something even more unsettling. These beings had genetic material strikingly similar to our own. They weren’t just visitors; they were progenitors. We were their experiment, their creation. The implications shattered every paradigm we held dear. Religion, science, history—all of it was called into question.
As I sit here, penning this confession, I know my time is limited. They will come for me, as they have come for others. But the truth must be known. We are not alone, and we never have been. Our governments have hidden this from us, not out of malice, but out of fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of the truth, fear of the inevitable.
To you who reads this, understand this: the veil has been lifted. The shadows hold secrets that are darker and more profound than we can imagine. And the truth, once revealed, will change everything.
This is my testament. Believe it, or don’t. But know this: the world is not as it seems. The universe is vast, and we are not the apex of creation. We are but a fragment in a grand, terrifying design.
The truth is out there, waiting to be uncovered. And when it is, the world will never be the same.
The progenitors, as we came to call them, had motives far more complex and far-reaching than simple exploration or conquest. The truth unraveled slowly, like an intricate tapestry revealing a grand design. It began with fragments of intercepted communications and culminated in a terrifying, awe-inspiring understanding of our place in the universe.
The progenitors did not come from a distant star merely to observe. They were architects of life, and Earth was their grand experiment. Our planet, teeming with diverse life forms, was a controlled environment, a living laboratory designed for a singular purpose: evolution.
From the ancient texts to modern scientific discoveries, we’ve always sought answers to our origins. The progenitors provided those answers, but they came at a cost. We discovered that they seeded countless worlds, each designed to test different variables of life. Earth was unique due to its biodiversity and its potential for intelligent life.
The genetic similarities between us and the progenitors weren’t just a coincidence. They were deliberate. By seeding their own DNA into the primordial soup of Earth, they ensured a certain path of evolution. Our intelligence, our creativity, our very civilization were results of their intricate design. We were, quite literally, their children, bred and cultivated to reach a specific level of advancement.
But why? The reasons were as complex as they were chilling. The progenitors were not just scientists; they were facing an existential crisis. Their civilization, once spanning galaxies, was in decline. They needed a solution to prevent their extinction, and their answer was found in genetic diversity and adaptability.
Earth and its human inhabitants were part of a grander scheme: to evolve a species capable of assimilating their consciousness, their essence, into a new form. Our rapid technological advancement was not just a natural progression but was subtly influenced to accelerate our development. They needed us to reach a level where we could understand and perhaps even merge with their advanced consciousness.
We learned through decrypted communications and rare encounters that the progenitors were a hive mind, an interconnected collective consciousness. Over millennia, they had lost individuality, becoming a singular entity spread across countless biological hosts. This form of existence had its limits, and they sought to evolve beyond those constraints. They aimed to create a hybrid species—humans with the potential to host their collective consciousness.
This wasn’t just about survival; it was about transcendence. By merging with us, they hoped to achieve a new state of being, combining their ancient wisdom and collective power with our adaptability and creativity. We were to be the vessels for their next evolution.
However, this plan wasn’t without resistance. Among the progenitors, there were factions. Some believed in the purity of their collective consciousness, resisting the idea of merging with what they considered lesser beings. These internal conflicts spilled over into their actions on Earth, leading to sporadic yet significant interventions in our history.
As our understanding grew, so did the dread. The government’s attempts to contain this knowledge were born out of sheer terror. How could they explain to the world that we were bred for a purpose beyond our control? That our creators intended to use us to save themselves?
The intercepted transmissions became increasingly desperate. The progenitors’ time was running out, and their interest in Earth intensified. Reports of sightings and encounters surged. The military engaged in numerous clandestine operations to intercept and study these beings, leading to an underground war of sorts.
And then came the ultimate revelation: the progenitors were already among us. Their advanced technology allowed them to blend in, to influence, and to manipulate. The rise and fall of civilizations, the sudden leaps in technology, the inexplicable events in history—they were all part of the progenitors’ intricate plan to guide us towards the inevitable merging.
The truth, when finally pieced together, was more than earth-shattering. It was paradigm-shattering. We were not alone, nor were we masters of our fate. We were pawns in a cosmic game, engineered for a destiny we had yet to fully comprehend. The progenitors, our creators, were not gods but beings driven by survival and evolution, using us as their means to an end.
As I document this, I know the implications are beyond comprehension. The world must know, not to incite fear, but to understand. We stand at the brink of an unprecedented revelation, one that will redefine our existence and our place in the universe.
This is the truth, unfiltered and unvarnished. We are the progeny of ancient architects, part of a grand design stretching across the stars. Our future is intertwined with theirs, and the choices we make now will determine the fate of both our species.
submitted by d_pock_chope_bruh to scarystories [link] [comments]
The initial report detailed sightings of craft with capabilities far beyond our own. These weren’t the erratic, drunken movements of weather balloons or the technological marvels of hostile nations. These were intelligent, deliberate maneuvers, the kind that hinted at minds far advanced from ours. It was chilling, but it was only the beginning.
As weeks turned into months, the trickle of information became a flood. Documents stamped with the highest levels of classification described encounters, recoveries, and, most disturbingly, autopsies. The recovered bodies weren’t the little green men of popular culture. They were eerily humanoid, yet undeniably otherworldly. Their skin had a silicon-like quality, translucent and tough, and their eyes—large, dark, and haunting—seemed to pierce through the veil of secrecy we so desperately tried to maintain.
I was part of a small, compartmentalized team, tasked with understanding the implications of these findings. The government’s approach was twofold: reverse-engineer the technology and determine the intentions of these visitors. But as our understanding grew, so did our fear.
One evening, after hours of staring at grainy footage of a UFO darting through the sky over a desolate military base, I received a call. The voice on the other end was panicked, speaking in hushed, frantic tones. It was one of our field operatives, stationed at a classified recovery site. They had just intercepted a transmission. It wasn’t human.
The transmission was a distress signal, but not one of desperation. It was a call to arms. These beings, it seemed, were not just explorers. They were scouts, and their mission was not benign. The transmission hinted at a hive mind, a collective consciousness that controlled these entities. They were here to assess, to probe, and to prepare. For what, we could only speculate.
Days later, another recovery operation took place. A craft was shot down over the Nevada desert, and the bodies retrieved told a horrifying story. They were connected, biologically and technologically, to this hive mind. When one entity was captured, the others knew. When one died, they all felt it. The implications were staggering. We were not just dealing with isolated visitors; we were confronting a unified front.
The more we learned, the more paranoid our superiors became. Orders came down to contain the information at all costs. Whistleblowers were silenced, dissenters disappeared. But the truth was too big to contain. The technology we recovered was decades, if not centuries, ahead of our own. Anti-gravity propulsion, energy sources that defied our understanding of physics, biological materials that healed and adapted.
And then came the darkest revelation. The autopsies revealed something even more unsettling. These beings had genetic material strikingly similar to our own. They weren’t just visitors; they were progenitors. We were their experiment, their creation. The implications shattered every paradigm we held dear. Religion, science, history—all of it was called into question.
As I sit here, penning this confession, I know my time is limited. They will come for me, as they have come for others. But the truth must be known. We are not alone, and we never have been. Our governments have hidden this from us, not out of malice, but out of fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of the truth, fear of the inevitable.
To you who reads this, understand this: the veil has been lifted. The shadows hold secrets that are darker and more profound than we can imagine. And the truth, once revealed, will change everything.
This is my testament. Believe it, or don’t. But know this: the world is not as it seems. The universe is vast, and we are not the apex of creation. We are but a fragment in a grand, terrifying design.
The truth is out there, waiting to be uncovered. And when it is, the world will never be the same.
The progenitors, as we came to call them, had motives far more complex and far-reaching than simple exploration or conquest. The truth unraveled slowly, like an intricate tapestry revealing a grand design. It began with fragments of intercepted communications and culminated in a terrifying, awe-inspiring understanding of our place in the universe.
The progenitors did not come from a distant star merely to observe. They were architects of life, and Earth was their grand experiment. Our planet, teeming with diverse life forms, was a controlled environment, a living laboratory designed for a singular purpose: evolution.
From the ancient texts to modern scientific discoveries, we’ve always sought answers to our origins. The progenitors provided those answers, but they came at a cost. We discovered that they seeded countless worlds, each designed to test different variables of life. Earth was unique due to its biodiversity and its potential for intelligent life.
The genetic similarities between us and the progenitors weren’t just a coincidence. They were deliberate. By seeding their own DNA into the primordial soup of Earth, they ensured a certain path of evolution. Our intelligence, our creativity, our very civilization were results of their intricate design. We were, quite literally, their children, bred and cultivated to reach a specific level of advancement.
But why? The reasons were as complex as they were chilling. The progenitors were not just scientists; they were facing an existential crisis. Their civilization, once spanning galaxies, was in decline. They needed a solution to prevent their extinction, and their answer was found in genetic diversity and adaptability.
Earth and its human inhabitants were part of a grander scheme: to evolve a species capable of assimilating their consciousness, their essence, into a new form. Our rapid technological advancement was not just a natural progression but was subtly influenced to accelerate our development. They needed us to reach a level where we could understand and perhaps even merge with their advanced consciousness.
We learned through decrypted communications and rare encounters that the progenitors were a hive mind, an interconnected collective consciousness. Over millennia, they had lost individuality, becoming a singular entity spread across countless biological hosts. This form of existence had its limits, and they sought to evolve beyond those constraints. They aimed to create a hybrid species—humans with the potential to host their collective consciousness.
This wasn’t just about survival; it was about transcendence. By merging with us, they hoped to achieve a new state of being, combining their ancient wisdom and collective power with our adaptability and creativity. We were to be the vessels for their next evolution.
However, this plan wasn’t without resistance. Among the progenitors, there were factions. Some believed in the purity of their collective consciousness, resisting the idea of merging with what they considered lesser beings. These internal conflicts spilled over into their actions on Earth, leading to sporadic yet significant interventions in our history.
As our understanding grew, so did the dread. The government’s attempts to contain this knowledge were born out of sheer terror. How could they explain to the world that we were bred for a purpose beyond our control? That our creators intended to use us to save themselves?
The intercepted transmissions became increasingly desperate. The progenitors’ time was running out, and their interest in Earth intensified. Reports of sightings and encounters surged. The military engaged in numerous clandestine operations to intercept and study these beings, leading to an underground war of sorts.
And then came the ultimate revelation: the progenitors were already among us. Their advanced technology allowed them to blend in, to influence, and to manipulate. The rise and fall of civilizations, the sudden leaps in technology, the inexplicable events in history—they were all part of the progenitors’ intricate plan to guide us towards the inevitable merging.
The truth, when finally pieced together, was more than earth-shattering. It was paradigm-shattering. We were not alone, nor were we masters of our fate. We were pawns in a cosmic game, engineered for a destiny we had yet to fully comprehend. The progenitors, our creators, were not gods but beings driven by survival and evolution, using us as their means to an end.
As I document this, I know the implications are beyond comprehension. The world must know, not to incite fear, but to understand. We stand at the brink of an unprecedented revelation, one that will redefine our existence and our place in the universe.
This is the truth, unfiltered and unvarnished. We are the progeny of ancient architects, part of a grand design stretching across the stars. Our future is intertwined with theirs, and the choices we make now will determine the fate of both our species.
2024.05.19 07:21 wood_chomper A man had been drinking molten wax from my candles.
I first started noticing that something was wrong around 3 months ago. At the time, I was working from home and would usually light a scented candle while I worked, which usually helped me relax and stay focused on my work. I would usually burn through a candle a week, but over time, the candles started to take less time to fully burn up. At first, I thought that this was because of a change in ingredients the company that made the candles used, but the problem persisted after I switched candle brands, which I once again blamed on the candle manufacturers.
I kept this belief for another week until the first incident. While getting up from my computer desk, which faces away from the candle, to take a quick bathroom break, I caught a glimpse of the lit candle. A two-inch layer of molten wax rested on another three-inch layer of solid wax, the wicks rising out at first and being somewhat visible through the molten layer, finally breaking the surface and being slowly burned away. The flames flickered as I swung the door open and walked out of the room. When I returned 10 minutes later, the molten layer was gone, and the wicks had been shortened so that the flames rested right above the solid layer of the wax. At first, I thought that the glass jar that contained the candle was leaking, but after a short inspection, I was only able to find two small drops of candle wax that had solidified right next to the candle on the bedside table. I still had 2 hours of work left to do, but I was too lost in thought and was unable to do any work for the rest of the day.
Every night before I go to sleep, I like to read for at least 30 minutes, and while reading, I usually light a candle. Around 4 days later, I had mostly forgotten about the incident and went back to using candles. Due to my naivety, it returned.
I fell asleep while reading with a candle lit on my bedside table. I woke up to loud slurping noises. As I opened my eyes, the brightness of the light I had not turned off almost blinded me. As my eyes tried to readjust to the light and focus on what was in front of me, I saw a somewhat humanoid dark gray to light blue blur that contrasted with the white paint on the walls behind it. Another gray line stretched from the shape's head to the candle on my bedside table. I could feel my heart skip five consecutive beats. I opened my mouth and tried to force out a scream for help, but the pressure I applied to my throat was way beyond what it was able to handle, leading me to only produce a light wheezing sound. I tried to sit up or to at least prop myself up, but my muscles failed me. Trying to push myself up with my arms felt impossible. As I stared at the figure that had suddenly appeared in my room, my eyes finally managed to focus, making it possible for me to see the intruder who was now staring at me. The figure was a man at least 7 feet tall, fully naked; he looked bloated; his eyes were bloodshot and looked like they would pop out of their sockets; at any point, his skin was a grayish light blue.
HIS LIPS
His lips extended from his mouth like an elephant's trunk, which had been split in half. The lips extended from the man's face to the candle; the flames had been put out. He was using his lips as a makeshift straw, slowly sucking up all the molten wax from the candle, which had fully liquified while I was asleep. I laid in bed, unable to move, unable to scream for help, staring until he emptied the jar. His lips retracted back to his face, the molten wax solidifying on their tips and cracking, flakes of wax falling off the man's lips and falling to the floor. The man grinned, staring at me. The ridges and gaps between the teeth were filled in with wax, making it impossible to make out where one tooth ended and the next one began. The man opened the door he was standing next to, but instead of walking out of the room, he stepped behind it. His face peered at me from above the door, and then once again, like he had done to drink the wax, the man puckered his lips, which stretched from his mouth and floated to me. I shook and tried to roll over away from him. I wanted to get up and run, but my fear had taken over my body. Tears flowed from my eyes. He kissed me on the cheek, leaving flakes of wax and light moisture. He retracted his lips and lowered his head behind the door.
I don't remember falling asleep, but when I woke up, I saw the empty glass jar, which at one point contained the candle. Even though I had hoped that what had happened was a dream, it wasn't. I still had flakes of wax on my cheek, and on my bedroom floor, the wax in the jar had disappeared. I called the police, but they were unable to find anyone in my apartment; they also could not find any evidence of a break-in.
After the break-in, I started looking for a new apartment to move to, thinking that the man was tied to the building I was in, but even though I had thrown out all of my candles, I could not stomach spending another hour in my apartment, constantly looking over my shoulder or walking around with my back pressed up against the wall to not allow it to creep up on me. Thankfully, my friend Emma was able to let me stay over at her apartment while I looked for a new one for myself.
Me and Emma have been friends since we were 8, and we've been there to support each other when times get rough. This isn’t the first time I've had to stay over at her house for an extended amount of time; in fact, I have had to stay over at Emma’s as many times as she has had to stay over at my apartment, whether it was because of evictions after losing a job, breakups, or a candle wax drinking squatter. I didn't even know if it was human. I mean, sure, it looked like one, but human lips are not supposed to do what his did, and somehow it didn't have a reaction to molten wax being poured down its esophagus. I didn't tell Emma about what happened—the details at least—I just told her that a man had broken into my house and was watching me sleep. The only people I told the truth to were my therapist and the cops, and all of them disregarded what I told them as my mind making things up after a traumatic event.
For a while, I believed what they said—I mean, why wouldn’t I?—but then I started seeing him again. For a few days, I thought it was my mind playing tricks on me again like it had done during the night of the incident. For split seconds out of the corner of my eye, I would see the outline of a tall, bloated figure. At first, they were hours apart, but after a while, it became constant. He was standing in each room I passed, in every single dark corner I glanced past, and then he spoke.
“FeeD MeEeee”
It stood in the kitchen, peering over from a small gap between the fridge and the sink, where the trash can that had been knocked over onto its side usually stood. His voice was raspy, and every word that came out of his mouth was distorted as if he were gargling water, but still, I could somehow clearly make out each word he said from over 15 feet away.
“Please just leave me alone I… why are you following me?”
I shouted at the figure, the same fear that had taken over my body during the night I saw him for the first time paralyzing me, making it impossible for me to move anything other than my eyes, eyelids, and mouth.
“i’M sTarviNg, I nEEd You To FeEd ME”
It replied again. Now, stepping out from behind the fridge, he stepped directly onto a rotten banana. Its mushy brown content’s seeping out of the peel under the pressure of his decomposing foot, which was covered in scabs, and took up the same grayish light blue color as the rest of his body. He mostly looked the same; his bloodshot eyes bulged from their sockets, but now his tongue was swollen. It peeked out from between his bloated, cracked gray lips; it stared at me, waiting for an answer.
“Ok, I’ll.. I’ll feed you, but please just... leave me alone.”
I replied, the tone of my voice shifting into high-pitched squeals with every quick breath I took. He looked satisfied by my response. He somehow squeezed his bloated body back into the gap that was at least four times smaller than him. After peering over at me from above the fridge, he bent over backwards, his spine releasing a series of sickening cracks until he was fully obscured by the fridge, and then he vanished.
Still barely in control of my body, I limped over to the couch tucked away in the back corner of the living room, it took me at least 10 minutes to steady my breathing and 20 more to fully regain control of my body again but as soon as I did I ran out the house and to the nearest store, during the 15-minute walk he stared at me through dark windows and the backs of cars, peered out at me from gaps between leaves in the trees and bushes, he even followed me into the store staring at me from the middle of deserted isles before disappearing right before my eyes were able to fully catch him, once I finally got the candles I randomly picked four off of the shelves and rushed to the self checkout.
When I arrived home, I had 2 hours before Emma got off work. I didn't want to feed it while she was home, and I didn't want her to see it. I pulled out two of the candles from the black plastic bag and placed them on the kitchen table, the first a light blue candle named “Garden Rain” and the second a red candle named “Juicy Watermelon." I pulled out a lighter from one of the drawers Emma used after her stove stopped lighting on its own and lit each of the 6 wicks on the candles. As soon as I started seeing the wax melt under the heat of the burning wicks, I dropped the lighter onto the table next to the candles and ran out of the room. I could not stomach seeing that thing again; even just thinking about it made me shudder and hyperventilate. The paralyzing fear that seeing him caused me made me want to vomit.
At least 30 minutes later I started to hear it drink even though the living room and kitchen were separated by a wall, even though I had closed the door I could still hear what at first started as slurping sounds which were followed up by loud gulps, then it stopped, and once again 30 minutes later it started drinking, as the slurping started once again I heard the door to the apartment crack open, it was Emma, as she stepped through the door I saw her carrying two large brown paper bags of groceries in her hands, she was headed to the kitchen.
“Hey let me grab those for you”
I said running over to her, my voice shaking.
“Oh, thanks. Are you… okay, you look scared?”
My eyes shot wide open in a mixture of fear and surprise. I said the first thing that came to mind.
“Yeah just umm… I didn't expect you to come home so early and I got a bit spooked”
“shit sorry, I know I should have called you, work let me off early today,”
I started to turn away from her walking to the kitchen.
Trying to keep her away from the kitchen I told her to wait for me in the living room because I wanted to talk to her about something. I didn't know what I would talk to her about but that was a problem for future me to resolve, somehow it worked.
“What's that sound?”
She called out to me while walking towards the living room couch. It took me a few seconds to come up with an excuse.
“I think it’s the sink, or the pipes at least”
I opened the door to the kitchen with my eyes closed at first hesitant to look knowing what would be greeting me. slowly prying my eyes open I started to see its outline, my muscles started to lose strength as the details of the man came into my view, I felt the grocery bags start to slip from my arms, my knees buckled, face first I fell onto the kitchen floor scattering the groceries all over the floor, I mixture of a light scream and a yelp escaped from my mouth as my body made contact with the floor, Emma concerned for my safety ran into the kitchen, she didn't scream, using all of the strength and mobility I had left in my muscles I rolled over expecting to see her face drenched in terror, her body frozen still unable to move just like my body had done the first time that I saw him, but Emma looked concerned, the man was gone, she crouched down beside me.
“Oh my god are you ok? What happened?”
I looked around observing my surroundings.
“I um… I… I tripped on the little thing at the bottom of the doorframe”
I finally managed to blurt out another excuse, not being able to remember what the name of a door sill was. I started to sit up using a part of the energy that had returned to my body, pain pulsed through my chest and arms, Emma looked at me with a concerned face.
“You've been acting really weird since I got home, are you sure you're ok?”
“Yeah… I think I’m just having one of those days you know”
The confusion on Emma’s face said that she didn’t know and to be honest I didn't either, I guess my luck of pulling random excuses out of my ass ran out, Emma thought that she triggered some sort of PTSD response after barging into the house unannounced at first apologizing then trying to change the subject to stop my trembling which I was still unsuccessfully trying to hide from her.
“Did you buy candles?”
Emma asked picking the groceries apart from the garbage that spilled out the can that the man had knocked over, placing them on the table next to the now half-empty glass jars, the flames flickered above the inch or so of molten wax the man was unable to finish drinking.
“Yeah I’ve been struggling with work lately, they usually help me focus”
“Huh Interesting combination you’ve got going on here”
She looked at me and smiled slightly, I smiled back and chuckled to seem normal.
“Yeah even I don't know what I was trying to accomplish here, to be honest”
I tried to help Emma clean up the spilled groceries but she did not let me, she told me that I needed to recover like I had been in a car crash instead of having taken a little tumble. After a few seconds of silence, Emma spoke again.
“Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about earlier?”
A quick jolt of stress shot through my body, in a jumbled mess of lies and fear I had forgotten what I had told Emma, I sat there in silence for a few seconds unable to come up with an excuse
“I…umm… I don’t remember, it wasn't anything serious though”
“Damn did you hit your head too?”
She said once again proudly smiling at her joke.
At this point Emma picked up the last bag of potato chips from the floor and placed it on the table, then she opened the fridge and started loading the groceries into it.
“Anyway I gotta go get back to work’’
I blurted out after a few more seconds of awkward silence.
“Alright well good luck”
I walked over into the living room and sat down in front of my workstation, which now consisted of a laptop sitting on a small foldable TV tray that had just barely enough room left on it to fit a small USB mouse.
The last thing I remember, before I fell asleep, was me mindlessly scrolling through apartment listings while Emma watched a random 90’s horror movie I’m positive only had a budget of $500.
I woke up with a light stinging pain shooting through my dry throat, and a dim hissing sound caused by thousands of water drops striking the ground outside filled the room. I pressed the spacebar on my laptop, the brightness of the screen blinding me temporarily, after taking a few seconds to let my eyes readjust I managed to make out the time, 3:45 AM. A strong smell I was unable to make out the origin of assaulted my nostrils. Lavender.
The smell hitting my nose had the same effect on me that I would expect smelling salts would have on a weightlifter right before they set a world record. Before I knew it my legs were moving on their own at an almost uncontrollable pace, fighting back against my mind which was telling them to slow down after years of being used to navigating both mine and Emma’s apartment as steadily as possible to not bother the neighbors.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity I stood before Emma’s bedroom door, a faint, yellow, pulsating light radiated from a lamp and snuck out of a small gap between the door and the doorframe, reluctantly I pushed my left hand up against the door, my right hand grasping onto the door frame for a sense of stability, once the door was fully agape I scanned the inside of the room my heart skipping a beat for every humanoid shadow cast up onto the wall by the lights from the wicks which were set ablaze and were being slowly burnt away.
I walked into Emma’s room and made my way over to her bedside table to put out the candle, as I stepped closer towards her, her face became more defined, I could finally make out her features, she was awake, but no she could not have been, even though her eyes were wide open they never blinked, she didn't even move slightly, as I moved closer I finally managed to fully make out the expression of pure terror on her face, her mouth wide agape as if she was about to release a deafening screach, but she could not have, a single drop of solidified wax dribbled out of the corner of her mouth and clung to her cheek, my eyes traced the cream colored path back towards her mouth, first up her cheek then between the corner of her mouth and finally behind her teeth, there instead of her tongue or the roof of her mouth I saw a wall of wax which had filled in the entirety of her mouth.
I fell to my knees and hunched forward supporting my body weight with my arms, I was too late, I resisted the urge to vomit and got back up onto my feet, a mixture of tears and snot slid down my face and onto my lips, shaking now I slowly started limping over towards my phone which I had left on the couch next to where I had awoken just minutes before, just minutes before my life was destroyed because of my lies if I had just told Emma what I had gone through, if I had just told her what had happened on the night of the incident which now seemed trivial, even if she thought that I was crazy, I know that she would have complied just to make me feel comfortable.
It took me at least 30 seconds of repeated attempts to stabilize my hands enough to properly dial 911. “Someone broke into my apartment and hurt my friend” was the only reasonable explanation I could come up with that would not get the operator to hang up on me thinking that this was a prank call.
I sat there in the living room for an agonizing 10 minutes, crying, my sadness slowly transformed into anger towards myself, and my mind raced thinking of all the lies I’d told, I kept thinking that if I had just told her the truth she would not have been laying there in her bed, her body bloated, “every single orifice has signs of forced penetration and has been filled with what seems to be candle wax” is what was written on her autopsy report.
For a few days I was the main suspect in Emma’s murder, but due to the almost unstoppable crying and the unresponsive state that I was in when the police arrived, mixed with the lack of evidence of me having a way to produce 30 pounds of candle wax led to me being released out of police custody, but because I was the main suspect I was not told any details about what had fully happened to Emma, for days all I had to work off of was the image of her face frozen in terror, and a short glance I caught of her bloated body as she was being carted out on a stretcher.
I recounted every single word of our last conversations over and over again until they became permanently etched into my brain.
Emma’s parents originally wanted to cremate her, as that is what she had somewhat jokingly asked for whenever the topic of funerals came up, well she had joked about wanting to have had unpopped popcorn shoved down her throat before she was sent off to “scare the shit out of the guy cremating me” but due to all the wax which would have been impossible to get out of her body they were forced to bury her.
A few days before Emma’s funeral her body disappeared.
After Emma’s death, her parents took me into their home, after reading the autopsy reports and seeing her corpse they had thrown out every single candle they owned which made their home the safest choice I had, still, this did not stop me from buying a machete and keeping it under my bed, just in case.
I was laying on the bed in their guest bedroom The day that the police informed Emma’s parents about her disappearance, the bedroom is right above the front porch of the house, at first I heard them ring the doorbell which was followed up by 3 powerful knocks on the door, for about a minute I laid there on the bed listening to muffled voices exchanging distorted words I was barely able to make out which slowly transformed into distorted weeps, curious I lifted myself up from the bed, made my way over to the window and carefully lifted the bottom panel making Shure to not make too much noise, the distorted muffled sounds started forming into coherent words “We checked the security footage but the only strange thing we could see was a 5 second time jump” one of the officers spoke in a serious and almost monotone voice “which meant that the security guard who was the only person in the building had to climb down 2 flights of stairs walk through a 40 foot long hallway and then drag her body back up stairs and out of the building in 5 seconds” Emma’s mom let out yelp “ but don’t worry ma'am that’s actually good news because we know that her corpse is still somewhere within the building and was probably brought to the wrong floor by an intern, we’ve already warned all of the staff at the hospital to keep an eye out, and we also sent 5 officers to search the hospital”
I could not believe what I was hearing, my breathing quickened, but this time instead of fear I felt anger, that fucker stole her corpse and was probably in the weird separate plane of existence he always went back to after terrorizing me, cutting off chunks of her body, melting her, and drinking her.
I closed the window Emma’s mom's cries once again turned into a muffled rumble which was only possible to make out if you knew what to look for, I took a few steps back away from the window planning to lay back down, not wanting to bother Emma’s parents. I bumped into something, not something, someone, its fleshy towering form as solid as a wall sent me tumbling forward, I knew it was him, he had returned to take me too, to stretch his swollen cracked lips, push them down my esophagus, fill my lungs and stomach with wax. But despite all of that this time I was not scared, I was angry, and I was not going to stand there in terror like I had the last time I saw him.
I fell forward onto my knees my face missing the window sill just by mere inches, I put my hands onto the floor, lifted one of my knees, and rotated 180 degrees now facing the monster, to the right of him pushed up against the wall was the bed, light from the sun reflected off of the metallic button which kept my machete in it’s sheathe, the man started to stretch his lips, they were moving towards me, waving a wiggling through the air like a snake slithering towards me.
I dove towards the bed one of my feet pushing off of the floor and the other pushing against the wall which creaked under the pressure applied to it, I flew for a few moments before slamming down onto the carpet and sliding forward, the heat generated by my skin brushing against the carpet released a sharp stinging pain throughout my body, my outstretched arm landed just a few inches short of the machete, I quickly bent my arms, pushing my body up and crawled towards the machete. my fingers wrapped around the handle I spun around, my back pushed up against the bedside table, once again facing the man, he was still facing the window but his lips faced me and were just a few feet away from me, for what felt like minutes but was most likely no longer than a second, I struggled to hook my finger under the strap securing the machete into its sheath, as the lips inched towards me the man started producing gurgling noises, he was regurgitation wax.
I finally pulled the machete out of its sheath, I swung the blade at the man's lips, the blade was not met with any resistance as it sliced through the man’s lips which landed on the carpeted floor with an audible thud, the man did not have a physical reaction to my counter-attack, his lips kept creeping towards me, once again I slashed at the lips, still no reaction, I repeated this at least 3 more times.
I wanted to kill him, I wanted to take revenge for what he had done to Emma, but fighting back was pointless. I realized that no matter how much I tried to hurt it, I could not kill him, I could not get rid of him.
My rage dissipated and a mixture of fear and sadness crept in, and soon took over my body, I screamed for help, I screamed in fear, in agony, tears streamed down my face as the man's lips finally reached my face, he wasn’t met with any resistance as his lips snuck between mine, pried my jaw open and finally started to slide down my esophagus.
I heard the cops run up the stairs, they started banging on the door asking if I was okay only to have been met with muffled screams, hot wax started to pour down inside of me, the stinging pain of the heat made me want to plunge the machete which I had dropped onto the ground next to me into my stomach to create a gaping wound that the wax would hopefully funnel out of, the texture of the man's slippery, oily lips matched with the poison like flavor of the wax caused me to start gagging, I felt my insides bulging like at any moment my intestines would have been filled to the point where they would pop, I wanted to vomit, the drain myself of the filth I was filled with, but his lips had plugged my throat not allowing anything to get out.
Hearing my muffled screams the cops started kicking the door down, the man retracted his lips, the suction aided my attempts at cleansing my insides, I got onto my hands and knees streams of molten wax pouring out of me, solidifying on the the carpet, with another loud thud the door swung open slamming into the wall, the man was gone.
That’s the last thing I remember before I passed out, but according to one of the doctors who was in the ambulance that brought me to the hospital, I was still semi-responsive during the first 10 minutes of the ride to the hospital.
Approximately 13.4 pounds of wax were removed from my body, the doctors said that I was in a critical condition and some of them did not expect me to make it.
One of the officers who was there the day the man attacked me took a report of what had happened to me, due to the unmistakable evidence of what had happened to both me and Emma, and the fact that this was the 3rd instance of me reporting something like this the police finally started investigating who this man might have been.
Around a month later I was discharged from the hospital and once again have been staying in the living room of Emma’s parent's house.
I’ve been seeing the man again, candles were not allowed in the hospital I stayed at, which means that he’s probably very hungry, he’s close to attacking me again, I know it, he wants to finish what he started and I don't know if I have the power to fight back, I’m not sure if defeating him is even possible, I’m tired.
I’ve been seeing Emma too, her bloated, reanimated corpse often appears to be standing next to the man. If I let him take me will I get to join them? I’ve tried asking but they don’t answer, they just stare, I can’t keep living in constant fear, always looking over my shoulder, I miss Emma.
submitted by wood_chomper to nosleep [link] [comments]
I kept this belief for another week until the first incident. While getting up from my computer desk, which faces away from the candle, to take a quick bathroom break, I caught a glimpse of the lit candle. A two-inch layer of molten wax rested on another three-inch layer of solid wax, the wicks rising out at first and being somewhat visible through the molten layer, finally breaking the surface and being slowly burned away. The flames flickered as I swung the door open and walked out of the room. When I returned 10 minutes later, the molten layer was gone, and the wicks had been shortened so that the flames rested right above the solid layer of the wax. At first, I thought that the glass jar that contained the candle was leaking, but after a short inspection, I was only able to find two small drops of candle wax that had solidified right next to the candle on the bedside table. I still had 2 hours of work left to do, but I was too lost in thought and was unable to do any work for the rest of the day.
Every night before I go to sleep, I like to read for at least 30 minutes, and while reading, I usually light a candle. Around 4 days later, I had mostly forgotten about the incident and went back to using candles. Due to my naivety, it returned.
I fell asleep while reading with a candle lit on my bedside table. I woke up to loud slurping noises. As I opened my eyes, the brightness of the light I had not turned off almost blinded me. As my eyes tried to readjust to the light and focus on what was in front of me, I saw a somewhat humanoid dark gray to light blue blur that contrasted with the white paint on the walls behind it. Another gray line stretched from the shape's head to the candle on my bedside table. I could feel my heart skip five consecutive beats. I opened my mouth and tried to force out a scream for help, but the pressure I applied to my throat was way beyond what it was able to handle, leading me to only produce a light wheezing sound. I tried to sit up or to at least prop myself up, but my muscles failed me. Trying to push myself up with my arms felt impossible. As I stared at the figure that had suddenly appeared in my room, my eyes finally managed to focus, making it possible for me to see the intruder who was now staring at me. The figure was a man at least 7 feet tall, fully naked; he looked bloated; his eyes were bloodshot and looked like they would pop out of their sockets; at any point, his skin was a grayish light blue.
HIS LIPS
His lips extended from his mouth like an elephant's trunk, which had been split in half. The lips extended from the man's face to the candle; the flames had been put out. He was using his lips as a makeshift straw, slowly sucking up all the molten wax from the candle, which had fully liquified while I was asleep. I laid in bed, unable to move, unable to scream for help, staring until he emptied the jar. His lips retracted back to his face, the molten wax solidifying on their tips and cracking, flakes of wax falling off the man's lips and falling to the floor. The man grinned, staring at me. The ridges and gaps between the teeth were filled in with wax, making it impossible to make out where one tooth ended and the next one began. The man opened the door he was standing next to, but instead of walking out of the room, he stepped behind it. His face peered at me from above the door, and then once again, like he had done to drink the wax, the man puckered his lips, which stretched from his mouth and floated to me. I shook and tried to roll over away from him. I wanted to get up and run, but my fear had taken over my body. Tears flowed from my eyes. He kissed me on the cheek, leaving flakes of wax and light moisture. He retracted his lips and lowered his head behind the door.
I don't remember falling asleep, but when I woke up, I saw the empty glass jar, which at one point contained the candle. Even though I had hoped that what had happened was a dream, it wasn't. I still had flakes of wax on my cheek, and on my bedroom floor, the wax in the jar had disappeared. I called the police, but they were unable to find anyone in my apartment; they also could not find any evidence of a break-in.
After the break-in, I started looking for a new apartment to move to, thinking that the man was tied to the building I was in, but even though I had thrown out all of my candles, I could not stomach spending another hour in my apartment, constantly looking over my shoulder or walking around with my back pressed up against the wall to not allow it to creep up on me. Thankfully, my friend Emma was able to let me stay over at her apartment while I looked for a new one for myself.
Me and Emma have been friends since we were 8, and we've been there to support each other when times get rough. This isn’t the first time I've had to stay over at her house for an extended amount of time; in fact, I have had to stay over at Emma’s as many times as she has had to stay over at my apartment, whether it was because of evictions after losing a job, breakups, or a candle wax drinking squatter. I didn't even know if it was human. I mean, sure, it looked like one, but human lips are not supposed to do what his did, and somehow it didn't have a reaction to molten wax being poured down its esophagus. I didn't tell Emma about what happened—the details at least—I just told her that a man had broken into my house and was watching me sleep. The only people I told the truth to were my therapist and the cops, and all of them disregarded what I told them as my mind making things up after a traumatic event.
For a while, I believed what they said—I mean, why wouldn’t I?—but then I started seeing him again. For a few days, I thought it was my mind playing tricks on me again like it had done during the night of the incident. For split seconds out of the corner of my eye, I would see the outline of a tall, bloated figure. At first, they were hours apart, but after a while, it became constant. He was standing in each room I passed, in every single dark corner I glanced past, and then he spoke.
“FeeD MeEeee”
It stood in the kitchen, peering over from a small gap between the fridge and the sink, where the trash can that had been knocked over onto its side usually stood. His voice was raspy, and every word that came out of his mouth was distorted as if he were gargling water, but still, I could somehow clearly make out each word he said from over 15 feet away.
“Please just leave me alone I… why are you following me?”
I shouted at the figure, the same fear that had taken over my body during the night I saw him for the first time paralyzing me, making it impossible for me to move anything other than my eyes, eyelids, and mouth.
“i’M sTarviNg, I nEEd You To FeEd ME”
It replied again. Now, stepping out from behind the fridge, he stepped directly onto a rotten banana. Its mushy brown content’s seeping out of the peel under the pressure of his decomposing foot, which was covered in scabs, and took up the same grayish light blue color as the rest of his body. He mostly looked the same; his bloodshot eyes bulged from their sockets, but now his tongue was swollen. It peeked out from between his bloated, cracked gray lips; it stared at me, waiting for an answer.
“Ok, I’ll.. I’ll feed you, but please just... leave me alone.”
I replied, the tone of my voice shifting into high-pitched squeals with every quick breath I took. He looked satisfied by my response. He somehow squeezed his bloated body back into the gap that was at least four times smaller than him. After peering over at me from above the fridge, he bent over backwards, his spine releasing a series of sickening cracks until he was fully obscured by the fridge, and then he vanished.
Still barely in control of my body, I limped over to the couch tucked away in the back corner of the living room, it took me at least 10 minutes to steady my breathing and 20 more to fully regain control of my body again but as soon as I did I ran out the house and to the nearest store, during the 15-minute walk he stared at me through dark windows and the backs of cars, peered out at me from gaps between leaves in the trees and bushes, he even followed me into the store staring at me from the middle of deserted isles before disappearing right before my eyes were able to fully catch him, once I finally got the candles I randomly picked four off of the shelves and rushed to the self checkout.
When I arrived home, I had 2 hours before Emma got off work. I didn't want to feed it while she was home, and I didn't want her to see it. I pulled out two of the candles from the black plastic bag and placed them on the kitchen table, the first a light blue candle named “Garden Rain” and the second a red candle named “Juicy Watermelon." I pulled out a lighter from one of the drawers Emma used after her stove stopped lighting on its own and lit each of the 6 wicks on the candles. As soon as I started seeing the wax melt under the heat of the burning wicks, I dropped the lighter onto the table next to the candles and ran out of the room. I could not stomach seeing that thing again; even just thinking about it made me shudder and hyperventilate. The paralyzing fear that seeing him caused me made me want to vomit.
At least 30 minutes later I started to hear it drink even though the living room and kitchen were separated by a wall, even though I had closed the door I could still hear what at first started as slurping sounds which were followed up by loud gulps, then it stopped, and once again 30 minutes later it started drinking, as the slurping started once again I heard the door to the apartment crack open, it was Emma, as she stepped through the door I saw her carrying two large brown paper bags of groceries in her hands, she was headed to the kitchen.
“Hey let me grab those for you”
I said running over to her, my voice shaking.
“Oh, thanks. Are you… okay, you look scared?”
My eyes shot wide open in a mixture of fear and surprise. I said the first thing that came to mind.
“Yeah just umm… I didn't expect you to come home so early and I got a bit spooked”
“shit sorry, I know I should have called you, work let me off early today,”
I started to turn away from her walking to the kitchen.
Trying to keep her away from the kitchen I told her to wait for me in the living room because I wanted to talk to her about something. I didn't know what I would talk to her about but that was a problem for future me to resolve, somehow it worked.
“What's that sound?”
She called out to me while walking towards the living room couch. It took me a few seconds to come up with an excuse.
“I think it’s the sink, or the pipes at least”
I opened the door to the kitchen with my eyes closed at first hesitant to look knowing what would be greeting me. slowly prying my eyes open I started to see its outline, my muscles started to lose strength as the details of the man came into my view, I felt the grocery bags start to slip from my arms, my knees buckled, face first I fell onto the kitchen floor scattering the groceries all over the floor, I mixture of a light scream and a yelp escaped from my mouth as my body made contact with the floor, Emma concerned for my safety ran into the kitchen, she didn't scream, using all of the strength and mobility I had left in my muscles I rolled over expecting to see her face drenched in terror, her body frozen still unable to move just like my body had done the first time that I saw him, but Emma looked concerned, the man was gone, she crouched down beside me.
“Oh my god are you ok? What happened?”
I looked around observing my surroundings.
“I um… I… I tripped on the little thing at the bottom of the doorframe”
I finally managed to blurt out another excuse, not being able to remember what the name of a door sill was. I started to sit up using a part of the energy that had returned to my body, pain pulsed through my chest and arms, Emma looked at me with a concerned face.
“You've been acting really weird since I got home, are you sure you're ok?”
“Yeah… I think I’m just having one of those days you know”
The confusion on Emma’s face said that she didn’t know and to be honest I didn't either, I guess my luck of pulling random excuses out of my ass ran out, Emma thought that she triggered some sort of PTSD response after barging into the house unannounced at first apologizing then trying to change the subject to stop my trembling which I was still unsuccessfully trying to hide from her.
“Did you buy candles?”
Emma asked picking the groceries apart from the garbage that spilled out the can that the man had knocked over, placing them on the table next to the now half-empty glass jars, the flames flickered above the inch or so of molten wax the man was unable to finish drinking.
“Yeah I’ve been struggling with work lately, they usually help me focus”
“Huh Interesting combination you’ve got going on here”
She looked at me and smiled slightly, I smiled back and chuckled to seem normal.
“Yeah even I don't know what I was trying to accomplish here, to be honest”
I tried to help Emma clean up the spilled groceries but she did not let me, she told me that I needed to recover like I had been in a car crash instead of having taken a little tumble. After a few seconds of silence, Emma spoke again.
“Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about earlier?”
A quick jolt of stress shot through my body, in a jumbled mess of lies and fear I had forgotten what I had told Emma, I sat there in silence for a few seconds unable to come up with an excuse
“I…umm… I don’t remember, it wasn't anything serious though”
“Damn did you hit your head too?”
She said once again proudly smiling at her joke.
At this point Emma picked up the last bag of potato chips from the floor and placed it on the table, then she opened the fridge and started loading the groceries into it.
“Anyway I gotta go get back to work’’
I blurted out after a few more seconds of awkward silence.
“Alright well good luck”
I walked over into the living room and sat down in front of my workstation, which now consisted of a laptop sitting on a small foldable TV tray that had just barely enough room left on it to fit a small USB mouse.
The last thing I remember, before I fell asleep, was me mindlessly scrolling through apartment listings while Emma watched a random 90’s horror movie I’m positive only had a budget of $500.
I woke up with a light stinging pain shooting through my dry throat, and a dim hissing sound caused by thousands of water drops striking the ground outside filled the room. I pressed the spacebar on my laptop, the brightness of the screen blinding me temporarily, after taking a few seconds to let my eyes readjust I managed to make out the time, 3:45 AM. A strong smell I was unable to make out the origin of assaulted my nostrils. Lavender.
The smell hitting my nose had the same effect on me that I would expect smelling salts would have on a weightlifter right before they set a world record. Before I knew it my legs were moving on their own at an almost uncontrollable pace, fighting back against my mind which was telling them to slow down after years of being used to navigating both mine and Emma’s apartment as steadily as possible to not bother the neighbors.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity I stood before Emma’s bedroom door, a faint, yellow, pulsating light radiated from a lamp and snuck out of a small gap between the door and the doorframe, reluctantly I pushed my left hand up against the door, my right hand grasping onto the door frame for a sense of stability, once the door was fully agape I scanned the inside of the room my heart skipping a beat for every humanoid shadow cast up onto the wall by the lights from the wicks which were set ablaze and were being slowly burnt away.
I walked into Emma’s room and made my way over to her bedside table to put out the candle, as I stepped closer towards her, her face became more defined, I could finally make out her features, she was awake, but no she could not have been, even though her eyes were wide open they never blinked, she didn't even move slightly, as I moved closer I finally managed to fully make out the expression of pure terror on her face, her mouth wide agape as if she was about to release a deafening screach, but she could not have, a single drop of solidified wax dribbled out of the corner of her mouth and clung to her cheek, my eyes traced the cream colored path back towards her mouth, first up her cheek then between the corner of her mouth and finally behind her teeth, there instead of her tongue or the roof of her mouth I saw a wall of wax which had filled in the entirety of her mouth.
I fell to my knees and hunched forward supporting my body weight with my arms, I was too late, I resisted the urge to vomit and got back up onto my feet, a mixture of tears and snot slid down my face and onto my lips, shaking now I slowly started limping over towards my phone which I had left on the couch next to where I had awoken just minutes before, just minutes before my life was destroyed because of my lies if I had just told Emma what I had gone through, if I had just told her what had happened on the night of the incident which now seemed trivial, even if she thought that I was crazy, I know that she would have complied just to make me feel comfortable.
It took me at least 30 seconds of repeated attempts to stabilize my hands enough to properly dial 911. “Someone broke into my apartment and hurt my friend” was the only reasonable explanation I could come up with that would not get the operator to hang up on me thinking that this was a prank call.
I sat there in the living room for an agonizing 10 minutes, crying, my sadness slowly transformed into anger towards myself, and my mind raced thinking of all the lies I’d told, I kept thinking that if I had just told her the truth she would not have been laying there in her bed, her body bloated, “every single orifice has signs of forced penetration and has been filled with what seems to be candle wax” is what was written on her autopsy report.
For a few days I was the main suspect in Emma’s murder, but due to the almost unstoppable crying and the unresponsive state that I was in when the police arrived, mixed with the lack of evidence of me having a way to produce 30 pounds of candle wax led to me being released out of police custody, but because I was the main suspect I was not told any details about what had fully happened to Emma, for days all I had to work off of was the image of her face frozen in terror, and a short glance I caught of her bloated body as she was being carted out on a stretcher.
I recounted every single word of our last conversations over and over again until they became permanently etched into my brain.
Emma’s parents originally wanted to cremate her, as that is what she had somewhat jokingly asked for whenever the topic of funerals came up, well she had joked about wanting to have had unpopped popcorn shoved down her throat before she was sent off to “scare the shit out of the guy cremating me” but due to all the wax which would have been impossible to get out of her body they were forced to bury her.
A few days before Emma’s funeral her body disappeared.
After Emma’s death, her parents took me into their home, after reading the autopsy reports and seeing her corpse they had thrown out every single candle they owned which made their home the safest choice I had, still, this did not stop me from buying a machete and keeping it under my bed, just in case.
I was laying on the bed in their guest bedroom The day that the police informed Emma’s parents about her disappearance, the bedroom is right above the front porch of the house, at first I heard them ring the doorbell which was followed up by 3 powerful knocks on the door, for about a minute I laid there on the bed listening to muffled voices exchanging distorted words I was barely able to make out which slowly transformed into distorted weeps, curious I lifted myself up from the bed, made my way over to the window and carefully lifted the bottom panel making Shure to not make too much noise, the distorted muffled sounds started forming into coherent words “We checked the security footage but the only strange thing we could see was a 5 second time jump” one of the officers spoke in a serious and almost monotone voice “which meant that the security guard who was the only person in the building had to climb down 2 flights of stairs walk through a 40 foot long hallway and then drag her body back up stairs and out of the building in 5 seconds” Emma’s mom let out yelp “ but don’t worry ma'am that’s actually good news because we know that her corpse is still somewhere within the building and was probably brought to the wrong floor by an intern, we’ve already warned all of the staff at the hospital to keep an eye out, and we also sent 5 officers to search the hospital”
I could not believe what I was hearing, my breathing quickened, but this time instead of fear I felt anger, that fucker stole her corpse and was probably in the weird separate plane of existence he always went back to after terrorizing me, cutting off chunks of her body, melting her, and drinking her.
I closed the window Emma’s mom's cries once again turned into a muffled rumble which was only possible to make out if you knew what to look for, I took a few steps back away from the window planning to lay back down, not wanting to bother Emma’s parents. I bumped into something, not something, someone, its fleshy towering form as solid as a wall sent me tumbling forward, I knew it was him, he had returned to take me too, to stretch his swollen cracked lips, push them down my esophagus, fill my lungs and stomach with wax. But despite all of that this time I was not scared, I was angry, and I was not going to stand there in terror like I had the last time I saw him.
I fell forward onto my knees my face missing the window sill just by mere inches, I put my hands onto the floor, lifted one of my knees, and rotated 180 degrees now facing the monster, to the right of him pushed up against the wall was the bed, light from the sun reflected off of the metallic button which kept my machete in it’s sheathe, the man started to stretch his lips, they were moving towards me, waving a wiggling through the air like a snake slithering towards me.
I dove towards the bed one of my feet pushing off of the floor and the other pushing against the wall which creaked under the pressure applied to it, I flew for a few moments before slamming down onto the carpet and sliding forward, the heat generated by my skin brushing against the carpet released a sharp stinging pain throughout my body, my outstretched arm landed just a few inches short of the machete, I quickly bent my arms, pushing my body up and crawled towards the machete. my fingers wrapped around the handle I spun around, my back pushed up against the bedside table, once again facing the man, he was still facing the window but his lips faced me and were just a few feet away from me, for what felt like minutes but was most likely no longer than a second, I struggled to hook my finger under the strap securing the machete into its sheath, as the lips inched towards me the man started producing gurgling noises, he was regurgitation wax.
I finally pulled the machete out of its sheath, I swung the blade at the man's lips, the blade was not met with any resistance as it sliced through the man’s lips which landed on the carpeted floor with an audible thud, the man did not have a physical reaction to my counter-attack, his lips kept creeping towards me, once again I slashed at the lips, still no reaction, I repeated this at least 3 more times.
I wanted to kill him, I wanted to take revenge for what he had done to Emma, but fighting back was pointless. I realized that no matter how much I tried to hurt it, I could not kill him, I could not get rid of him.
My rage dissipated and a mixture of fear and sadness crept in, and soon took over my body, I screamed for help, I screamed in fear, in agony, tears streamed down my face as the man's lips finally reached my face, he wasn’t met with any resistance as his lips snuck between mine, pried my jaw open and finally started to slide down my esophagus.
I heard the cops run up the stairs, they started banging on the door asking if I was okay only to have been met with muffled screams, hot wax started to pour down inside of me, the stinging pain of the heat made me want to plunge the machete which I had dropped onto the ground next to me into my stomach to create a gaping wound that the wax would hopefully funnel out of, the texture of the man's slippery, oily lips matched with the poison like flavor of the wax caused me to start gagging, I felt my insides bulging like at any moment my intestines would have been filled to the point where they would pop, I wanted to vomit, the drain myself of the filth I was filled with, but his lips had plugged my throat not allowing anything to get out.
Hearing my muffled screams the cops started kicking the door down, the man retracted his lips, the suction aided my attempts at cleansing my insides, I got onto my hands and knees streams of molten wax pouring out of me, solidifying on the the carpet, with another loud thud the door swung open slamming into the wall, the man was gone.
That’s the last thing I remember before I passed out, but according to one of the doctors who was in the ambulance that brought me to the hospital, I was still semi-responsive during the first 10 minutes of the ride to the hospital.
Approximately 13.4 pounds of wax were removed from my body, the doctors said that I was in a critical condition and some of them did not expect me to make it.
One of the officers who was there the day the man attacked me took a report of what had happened to me, due to the unmistakable evidence of what had happened to both me and Emma, and the fact that this was the 3rd instance of me reporting something like this the police finally started investigating who this man might have been.
Around a month later I was discharged from the hospital and once again have been staying in the living room of Emma’s parent's house.
I’ve been seeing the man again, candles were not allowed in the hospital I stayed at, which means that he’s probably very hungry, he’s close to attacking me again, I know it, he wants to finish what he started and I don't know if I have the power to fight back, I’m not sure if defeating him is even possible, I’m tired.
I’ve been seeing Emma too, her bloated, reanimated corpse often appears to be standing next to the man. If I let him take me will I get to join them? I’ve tried asking but they don’t answer, they just stare, I can’t keep living in constant fear, always looking over my shoulder, I miss Emma.
2024.05.19 04:53 intotheblued Unseated Colonoscopy Experience (NHS UK)
wanted to share my experience as a 28 year old, F, on the very thin side, anxious, and autistic.
had to have colonoscopy due to positive fit test and anaemia diagnosis, and 6 months of heavily bloody multi-daily bathroom trips. I was starting to get very concerned about cancer.
I opted for no sedation because I'm extremely anxious about feeling 'out of it' or not in control of my body/brain or feeling dizzy.
The thought of waking up and not knowing what my body went through was also making me squeamish.
I did a lot of research, I watched full, unseated colonoscopy videos on YouTube, this post from this subreddit was also incredible and explains it all better than I could. but here's my detailed experience of each step.
Prep: The prep was not bad at all, I had Citrafleet.
I prepared the mixture and took it at 6pm (the leaflet said 5pm, appointment at 11am) It had a nice lemon taste and was pleasant. after I drunk it, my medication anxiety/dread kicked in, I was like, oh god, what did I just do to my body. (i've never experienced laxatives before) I was expecting it to be like a movie and to immediately poop lol. I did not have a bowel movement for 3-4 hours. then it was just on and off bathroom trips. Funnily enough the only time it bothered me was I had to leave a competitive computer-game mid-match because I suddenly had to go so bad LOL.other than that, didn't feel too different to my normal symptoms honestly.
then I slept at 3-4am, at 3am I started to suddenly feel queasy and shaky and awful, stayed up too late I think, but it passed and I drunk water and went to sleep.
I woke up at 7am for the second packet of prep, it acted faster this time and then I stopped my 2-hours-before water drinking, was totally empty and went to the hospital.
Hospital: I got lucky, I got a very nice NHS hospital. I had a lovely nurse. They started talking about sedation and I said "I've decided to do no sedation" She said "Ah, gas and air. alright" I said nono, no sedation at all. She was a bit like "ermmm, we'll see about that" haha.
but ultimately everyone was very very respectful of my wishes! they just didn't think I would actually manage.
My heart rate was really high for ages in the waiting/prep room when they took my pulse and honestly I was so stressed they wouldn't do the procedure because my heart rate was high, so I had no time to be worried about what lay ahead because I was so fixated on trying to slow my heart rate. So my advice would be just keep your mind occupied before going in.
I got given huge green shorts, a cozy disposable gown, an iv/canula thing (they assured me it was routine, but I wouldn't get sedation). I had to pee a bunch before and then in the surgery room and had a little blanket put over me.
I had a pillow that was super comfortable and was instructed into the relevant position.
Procedure: The nurses were ALL surprised I wasn't having sedation, they asked if I was really sure I didn't want the gas and air because it can be painful and stopping halfway would be very detrimental.
They said "I know you want to do it without gas and air, some people say say they will and then can't handle it. The nurses also said it's rare someone asks to do it no sedation.
I was mentally preparing myself for the pain of the gas(for inflating the colon). I will say imagining it and feeling it are two very different experiences.
once the camera was in and they inflated with gas. It kept feeling like it was never going to stop inflating. I felt at my bodily physical limit of gas, but it kept inflating, awful awful awful. I can't deny. about 8/10 discomfort, maybe 6-7/10 pain. I had the worst urge to fart that I've ever had in my life. like "If I don't fart I'm going to explode from the inside" levels of bad, which was a slightly panic inducing feeling. The nurses said to pass gas if I needed to, but I couldn't fart. Either because of the position I was in (on side, knees up to chest), the obstruction from the camera, the fear, or because I felt like if I tensed, I'd pop like a balloon.
so "if i dont fart i'll explode & die, if i tense to fart i'll explode & die" was basically my experience with the gas.
Next they said "You might feel a period cramp" and I did. BOY DID I.
I said: "Oh yeah, just like a bad period cramp" And she said "Yeah we can't really help the boys by telling them that" and I somehow managed a "haha"
I think they said "We're going to do some water" but I didn't feel that.
It just felt like just trying to survive and get through it, I was just breathing, I knew I could survive it once I knew the pain I was dealing with. It just stayed consistently awful and painful and terrible. with occasional very bad cramps and awful sensations in 40-50 second bouts in various places in the middle section of my body.
There was so much different noise too from the machine.
The sensations ranged from: Intense gas cramps, horribly inflated feeling, a sucking on my intestines feeling, stomach caving in feeling, terrible period pain, terrible stomach pain, and rippling sensations.
I could barely look at the camera screen because I was just so focused on getting through it. frankly I didn't care LOL. I think I glanced once I just couldn't handle looking on top of what was happening to me. side note: I'm now put off giving birth if its anything like this hahaha.
I fluctuated between tensing from the discomfort and trying to relax. sometimes the discomfort was so freaky and bad my body tensed just to deal with it. If you've ever had a dream where a zombie was eating your stomach guts alive, it was reminiscent of that.
side note: I'm like a cat when I'm in pain, I don't like to show it, and I didn't want the sedation. So I was so badly trying to play it cool.
The literal best way I can describe all of this, it was like the worst food poisoning of your life, the worst trapped wind of your life, and the worst period cramp of your life, all at once, x2 or x3.
A few times my stomach rippled really unpleasantly and I keep remembering that sensation and cringing today
I can also liken some of the feelings to someone sticking a henry hoover into my ovaries.
It wasn't anything I haven't 'naturally' felt in my body before, if that makes sense, they were "familiar" sensations, just not to that degree. I didn't expect it to be such a worse variation of familiar pains.
I also didn't expect to feel all of this SO HIGH UP IN MY BODY?! like the majority of it was felt above and around my belly button.
I don't understand how people say they knew what part of the colon they were in, I couldn't. but they did point when we were about halfway and I was relieved.
For the last part, turn or bend, I think it took 3 attempts, the nurse had to push onto my tummy to flatten something out, honestly, that made me feel so much better, the pressure was really relieving. and I swear to you, it poked my rib when it went through! it felt like it anyway.
There was no pain after that. I knew it wouldn't hurt going out, so my relief was immeasurable, I knew I'd done it.
the only feeling then was just "aughuhguhguh my insides" feeling, and slight gas bloating still. I just focused on my breathing.
They said "We're going to take the biopsies now." I didn't feel that (thank goodness) but I was mega-cringing at the idea. for some reason I felt hot and slight burning in my insides mostly towards the entrance. I'm not sure how they took the biopsies but I heard a tiny drill type sound, and it freaked me out lol. i imagined them frying it off with a tiny saw.
they took, either 6 or 12 biopsies, I'm not sure. it was a strip biopsy, on my report card it has 6 things and says "x2" for each one, so idk.
When the camera went out I asked "is it over?" I didn't really feel the camera go out and was in disbelief because it was quicker than I anticipated and I couldn't believe that I had done it and was feeling proud of myself, and they were all hyping me up so much, telling me I should be crowned as queen and that the nurse could never do what I did. I felt so on top of the world. I couldn't stop smiling with relief.
The nurse called me brave and I said I was only brave because I was so scared of the sedation. Everyone is brave in different ways! You're not any less brave than me if you opt for sedation or Entonox. :)
Genuinely the entire thing felt 10 minutes long, it was like they did a speed-run of my guts, and it FELT like that too lol. just absolutely crashing around the entire mario kart racetrack that was my bowel. I'm just kidding, the doctor was great, it's a baffling procedure and I admire any doctor that does it.
I'd be so curious how long it actually was.. I was mentally prepared for 44 minutes, but idk. I don't want to get your hopes up that it will be short. maybe the shorter, the more painful?
I walked to the bus stop with my mum, I was kind of in disbelief that I did that.
Post-non-sedated-colonoscopy-thoughts
I would do it again if I had to, un-sedated. It was worth it for me to avoid three types of sensations that make me panic (dizziness, sluggish or forgetful)
I'm also really happy that I was able to be there and experience what was happening to my body, personally, I feel like if I was sedated I would always be wondering what my body went through without me being present.
I liked being able to breathe, and follow any instructions.
I've spent the entirety of the following day cringing in reflection of what happened, feeling achy, and being embarrassed for doing it un-sedated (for some reason I feel like everyone thinks i'm crazy).
I hope this helps... someone.
My options of sedation were Entonox or Midazolam and Fentanyl through IV. Lots of people said those things made them so relaxed and the best relaxation they've ever felt. It made me remember the Lavender Liquid dispensed from SCP-294q-01, where they drank the perfect drink and afterwards said "I'm sorry, but at this point everything is just one big let-down"
My brain is immensely neurotic and always in 'go' mode, I was worried if I felt relaxation like that, I'd probably start chasing different drugs to recreate it lol.
submitted by intotheblued to colonoscopy [link] [comments]
had to have colonoscopy due to positive fit test and anaemia diagnosis, and 6 months of heavily bloody multi-daily bathroom trips. I was starting to get very concerned about cancer.
I opted for no sedation because I'm extremely anxious about feeling 'out of it' or not in control of my body/brain or feeling dizzy.
The thought of waking up and not knowing what my body went through was also making me squeamish.
I did a lot of research, I watched full, unseated colonoscopy videos on YouTube, this post from this subreddit was also incredible and explains it all better than I could. but here's my detailed experience of each step.
Prep: The prep was not bad at all, I had Citrafleet.
I prepared the mixture and took it at 6pm (the leaflet said 5pm, appointment at 11am) It had a nice lemon taste and was pleasant. after I drunk it, my medication anxiety/dread kicked in, I was like, oh god, what did I just do to my body. (i've never experienced laxatives before) I was expecting it to be like a movie and to immediately poop lol. I did not have a bowel movement for 3-4 hours. then it was just on and off bathroom trips. Funnily enough the only time it bothered me was I had to leave a competitive computer-game mid-match because I suddenly had to go so bad LOL.other than that, didn't feel too different to my normal symptoms honestly.
then I slept at 3-4am, at 3am I started to suddenly feel queasy and shaky and awful, stayed up too late I think, but it passed and I drunk water and went to sleep.
I woke up at 7am for the second packet of prep, it acted faster this time and then I stopped my 2-hours-before water drinking, was totally empty and went to the hospital.
Hospital: I got lucky, I got a very nice NHS hospital. I had a lovely nurse. They started talking about sedation and I said "I've decided to do no sedation" She said "Ah, gas and air. alright" I said nono, no sedation at all. She was a bit like "ermmm, we'll see about that" haha.
but ultimately everyone was very very respectful of my wishes! they just didn't think I would actually manage.
My heart rate was really high for ages in the waiting/prep room when they took my pulse and honestly I was so stressed they wouldn't do the procedure because my heart rate was high, so I had no time to be worried about what lay ahead because I was so fixated on trying to slow my heart rate. So my advice would be just keep your mind occupied before going in.
I got given huge green shorts, a cozy disposable gown, an iv/canula thing (they assured me it was routine, but I wouldn't get sedation). I had to pee a bunch before and then in the surgery room and had a little blanket put over me.
I had a pillow that was super comfortable and was instructed into the relevant position.
Procedure: The nurses were ALL surprised I wasn't having sedation, they asked if I was really sure I didn't want the gas and air because it can be painful and stopping halfway would be very detrimental.
They said "I know you want to do it without gas and air, some people say say they will and then can't handle it. The nurses also said it's rare someone asks to do it no sedation.
I was mentally preparing myself for the pain of the gas(for inflating the colon). I will say imagining it and feeling it are two very different experiences.
once the camera was in and they inflated with gas. It kept feeling like it was never going to stop inflating. I felt at my bodily physical limit of gas, but it kept inflating, awful awful awful. I can't deny. about 8/10 discomfort, maybe 6-7/10 pain. I had the worst urge to fart that I've ever had in my life. like "If I don't fart I'm going to explode from the inside" levels of bad, which was a slightly panic inducing feeling. The nurses said to pass gas if I needed to, but I couldn't fart. Either because of the position I was in (on side, knees up to chest), the obstruction from the camera, the fear, or because I felt like if I tensed, I'd pop like a balloon.
so "if i dont fart i'll explode & die, if i tense to fart i'll explode & die" was basically my experience with the gas.
Next they said "You might feel a period cramp" and I did. BOY DID I.
I said: "Oh yeah, just like a bad period cramp" And she said "Yeah we can't really help the boys by telling them that" and I somehow managed a "haha"
I think they said "We're going to do some water" but I didn't feel that.
It just felt like just trying to survive and get through it, I was just breathing, I knew I could survive it once I knew the pain I was dealing with. It just stayed consistently awful and painful and terrible. with occasional very bad cramps and awful sensations in 40-50 second bouts in various places in the middle section of my body.
There was so much different noise too from the machine.
The sensations ranged from: Intense gas cramps, horribly inflated feeling, a sucking on my intestines feeling, stomach caving in feeling, terrible period pain, terrible stomach pain, and rippling sensations.
I could barely look at the camera screen because I was just so focused on getting through it. frankly I didn't care LOL. I think I glanced once I just couldn't handle looking on top of what was happening to me. side note: I'm now put off giving birth if its anything like this hahaha.
I fluctuated between tensing from the discomfort and trying to relax. sometimes the discomfort was so freaky and bad my body tensed just to deal with it. If you've ever had a dream where a zombie was eating your stomach guts alive, it was reminiscent of that.
side note: I'm like a cat when I'm in pain, I don't like to show it, and I didn't want the sedation. So I was so badly trying to play it cool.
The literal best way I can describe all of this, it was like the worst food poisoning of your life, the worst trapped wind of your life, and the worst period cramp of your life, all at once, x2 or x3.
A few times my stomach rippled really unpleasantly and I keep remembering that sensation and cringing today
I can also liken some of the feelings to someone sticking a henry hoover into my ovaries.
It wasn't anything I haven't 'naturally' felt in my body before, if that makes sense, they were "familiar" sensations, just not to that degree. I didn't expect it to be such a worse variation of familiar pains.
I also didn't expect to feel all of this SO HIGH UP IN MY BODY?! like the majority of it was felt above and around my belly button.
I don't understand how people say they knew what part of the colon they were in, I couldn't. but they did point when we were about halfway and I was relieved.
For the last part, turn or bend, I think it took 3 attempts, the nurse had to push onto my tummy to flatten something out, honestly, that made me feel so much better, the pressure was really relieving. and I swear to you, it poked my rib when it went through! it felt like it anyway.
There was no pain after that. I knew it wouldn't hurt going out, so my relief was immeasurable, I knew I'd done it.
the only feeling then was just "aughuhguhguh my insides" feeling, and slight gas bloating still. I just focused on my breathing.
They said "We're going to take the biopsies now." I didn't feel that (thank goodness) but I was mega-cringing at the idea. for some reason I felt hot and slight burning in my insides mostly towards the entrance. I'm not sure how they took the biopsies but I heard a tiny drill type sound, and it freaked me out lol. i imagined them frying it off with a tiny saw.
they took, either 6 or 12 biopsies, I'm not sure. it was a strip biopsy, on my report card it has 6 things and says "x2" for each one, so idk.
When the camera went out I asked "is it over?" I didn't really feel the camera go out and was in disbelief because it was quicker than I anticipated and I couldn't believe that I had done it and was feeling proud of myself, and they were all hyping me up so much, telling me I should be crowned as queen and that the nurse could never do what I did. I felt so on top of the world. I couldn't stop smiling with relief.
The nurse called me brave and I said I was only brave because I was so scared of the sedation. Everyone is brave in different ways! You're not any less brave than me if you opt for sedation or Entonox. :)
Genuinely the entire thing felt 10 minutes long, it was like they did a speed-run of my guts, and it FELT like that too lol. just absolutely crashing around the entire mario kart racetrack that was my bowel. I'm just kidding, the doctor was great, it's a baffling procedure and I admire any doctor that does it.
I'd be so curious how long it actually was.. I was mentally prepared for 44 minutes, but idk. I don't want to get your hopes up that it will be short. maybe the shorter, the more painful?
I walked to the bus stop with my mum, I was kind of in disbelief that I did that.
Post-non-sedated-colonoscopy-thoughts
I would do it again if I had to, un-sedated. It was worth it for me to avoid three types of sensations that make me panic (dizziness, sluggish or forgetful)
I'm also really happy that I was able to be there and experience what was happening to my body, personally, I feel like if I was sedated I would always be wondering what my body went through without me being present.
I liked being able to breathe, and follow any instructions.
I've spent the entirety of the following day cringing in reflection of what happened, feeling achy, and being embarrassed for doing it un-sedated (for some reason I feel like everyone thinks i'm crazy).
I hope this helps... someone.
My options of sedation were Entonox or Midazolam and Fentanyl through IV. Lots of people said those things made them so relaxed and the best relaxation they've ever felt. It made me remember the Lavender Liquid dispensed from SCP-294q-01, where they drank the perfect drink and afterwards said "I'm sorry, but at this point everything is just one big let-down"
My brain is immensely neurotic and always in 'go' mode, I was worried if I felt relaxation like that, I'd probably start chasing different drugs to recreate it lol.
2024.05.19 03:21 TrueSaltnolies Questions Kyler has Posted on Facebook
EDIT** I saw the list wasn't well formatted and have reformatted it with numbers so if you want to discuss a point, you can refer to the number if you wish.
Kyler posted these questions on her Facebook page. https://www.facebook.com/kylerashtyn
There were 778 responses! I haven't read them, but I think this is a great list for us who want to turn every stone over for #JusticeForMica:
Things we still don’t know the answer to. Unfortunately, the list is still pretty long and I’m sure I’m forgetting some, so feel free to post yours in the comments as well. I will do my best to add them to this list.
1. How did JP get her necklace? He could have taken it after he saw her body, but he also could have taken it before that.
2. Why did he have to replace his dog tag chain at the mall after her death?
3. What did Mica do on the side of the gas station building? The PI went there in person and confirmed they had a bathroom inside.
4. Was she being stalked and/or followed by the people in the pawn shop and/or the truck at the gas station? It appears that could have been happening.
5. Why didn’t Robeson County report on the fact that Mica had bruises and scratches on her hands and arms, or discuss the shell casings on the ground at the scene?
6. Why would someone drive that far and go into such a secluded area of the park if they wanted their family to be able to find them, and walk through high water in the process? That part of the unmarked trail is connected to a creek, so it’s likely that there is always water on it. We encountered no water on trails anywhere else.
7. Why did it take her 25 minutes to drive to the pawn shop when it only should have taken 10 or 15, and why did she remove her work shirt? It wasn’t busy season in Myrtle Beach yet, so it shouldn’t have taken that long. We drove the route ourselves this week and it didn’t take that long. She could have easily made it to work for her shift at noon if she left her house at 11:38.
8. We all know by now that JP has several cars in the church’s name. If we don’t have photos of him in Charleston, how do we know he was actually there? Just because his truck was seen doesn’t mean he was driving it.
9. Why won’t the gas station owner or the state park people release the videos from their cameras if they want to seem cooperative or innocent? The PI and I were promised videos of the inside of the gas station that we have still not received, and he had cameras everywhere inside. We have no video or photo proof that Mica drove to the state park by herself after leaving the gas station. Just because her car was there also doesn’t mean she drove it there.
submitted by TrueSaltnolies to JusticeForMicaMiller [link] [comments]
Kyler posted these questions on her Facebook page. https://www.facebook.com/kylerashtyn
There were 778 responses! I haven't read them, but I think this is a great list for us who want to turn every stone over for #JusticeForMica:
Things we still don’t know the answer to. Unfortunately, the list is still pretty long and I’m sure I’m forgetting some, so feel free to post yours in the comments as well. I will do my best to add them to this list.
1. How did JP get her necklace? He could have taken it after he saw her body, but he also could have taken it before that.
2. Why did he have to replace his dog tag chain at the mall after her death?
3. What did Mica do on the side of the gas station building? The PI went there in person and confirmed they had a bathroom inside.
4. Was she being stalked and/or followed by the people in the pawn shop and/or the truck at the gas station? It appears that could have been happening.
5. Why didn’t Robeson County report on the fact that Mica had bruises and scratches on her hands and arms, or discuss the shell casings on the ground at the scene?
6. Why would someone drive that far and go into such a secluded area of the park if they wanted their family to be able to find them, and walk through high water in the process? That part of the unmarked trail is connected to a creek, so it’s likely that there is always water on it. We encountered no water on trails anywhere else.
7. Why did it take her 25 minutes to drive to the pawn shop when it only should have taken 10 or 15, and why did she remove her work shirt? It wasn’t busy season in Myrtle Beach yet, so it shouldn’t have taken that long. We drove the route ourselves this week and it didn’t take that long. She could have easily made it to work for her shift at noon if she left her house at 11:38.
8. We all know by now that JP has several cars in the church’s name. If we don’t have photos of him in Charleston, how do we know he was actually there? Just because his truck was seen doesn’t mean he was driving it.
9. Why won’t the gas station owner or the state park people release the videos from their cameras if they want to seem cooperative or innocent? The PI and I were promised videos of the inside of the gas station that we have still not received, and he had cameras everywhere inside. We have no video or photo proof that Mica drove to the state park by herself after leaving the gas station. Just because her car was there also doesn’t mean she drove it there.
- Why didn’t they do a gunshot residue test, an autopsy, or a toxicology report?
- Why did JP want to rush the cremation so badly? Why hasn’t he been visibly grieving?
- Where was Wayne Miller during the time this happened? Where was Suzie Skinner? Where was anyone connected with JP? Who are the “other people” he was with, as Robeson County stated?
- Why won’t the people in the kayak come forward to share witness statements like Johnnie Jacobs has? He has been very cooperative with the PI.
- Did they check her car for a tracker or do any kind of DNA swabs to see if someone else was in the car with her?
- Where is her Apple watch?
- Where are the 2 or 3 kayakers who also heard the singular shot?
- Why did JP want to secure her journals so badly?
- Who currently has her car?
- Who had Mica been communicating with the night before or day of the incident?
- Why was JP trying to access her apartment?
- Why would you purchase such an expensive gun to kill yourself when there are tons of cheaper options and you had been struggling with money?
- Why did JP go into her workplace the evening of the 28th to talk to her coworkers about how crazy she was?
- How did JP know she was heading to Lumberton before she died unless he had another tracker on her car or she was being followed?
- Why did she have so much cash on her?
- In the video at the pawn shop, she folds the receipt on camera. Why isn’t the photo of the receipt in the Robeson County report folded? It’s perfectly flat.
- Who has her phone, and did anyone have her location? If she was so scared of JP, I would think someone had it.
- What did the 911 operator see on her screen that caused her to say, “I don’t think you’re in Robeson County?” The parking lot where she parked is Columbus County and the point where her body was found is Robeson County, so this COULD indicate she called from her car.
- Why was no name given or asked for during the 911 call?
- How was her call so clear when that area is known for spotty cellular service, and the kayaker who found her body had terrible service? The state park website even states that they need to add a radio tower because the service is so poor.
- Why didn’t Robeson release the body camera footage?
2024.05.19 01:22 Pale_Way2476 What’s next for Taylor: Sylvia Plath plagiarism, South Park, the banality of evil
The part that really takes the cheese is mediocre as Dante’s purgatory Taylor Swift likening herself to Sylvia Plath. It’s not enough to be emulating Lana. Taylor Swift’s got to pretend she’s read Lana’s inspiration - Sylvia Plath’s tortured poetry and that they are on the same intellectual level. I don’t know what’s funnier. Meghan Markle’s new lifestyle jam or Taylor’s “female rage”. What’s so similar about them is the sheer seriousness they apply to these endeavors as if we cannot see through their veneer of calculation and vapidness. Taylor can drop all the names she wants, but I wouldn’t be surprised we next hear her comparing herself and the slovenly Matty Healy to Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes. God help us! For those interested Ted Hughes, while a veritable a$$hole, is actually a very talented poet. Not the least like someone whose name rhymes with Silly.
Speaking of Meghan, I believe the real turning point in our culture regarding Taylor will need a South Park moment. When the show dropped the Meghan Markle episode the tides of the media started to turn even in the US. Markle became “ridiculous”, not merely heinous. Taylor Swift, along with all her antics, is brewing for a South Park moment. Show producers - take note!
I hope they in particular make fun of the Lake Como extravaganza, and not just the superbowl related miasma of drama - eating on the front lawn while holding up a “privacy” sign, getting photographed by a pap photographing the guard photographing her and her beau. Perhaps this episode will be called the “Worldwide Attention Tour” 😂
Finally, for those interested in philosophy - check out the concept the “banality of evil”. It really works to explain the phenomenon of Taylor Swift in our culture.
Stay mad!
submitted by Pale_Way2476 to travisandtaylor [link] [comments]
Speaking of Meghan, I believe the real turning point in our culture regarding Taylor will need a South Park moment. When the show dropped the Meghan Markle episode the tides of the media started to turn even in the US. Markle became “ridiculous”, not merely heinous. Taylor Swift, along with all her antics, is brewing for a South Park moment. Show producers - take note!
I hope they in particular make fun of the Lake Como extravaganza, and not just the superbowl related miasma of drama - eating on the front lawn while holding up a “privacy” sign, getting photographed by a pap photographing the guard photographing her and her beau. Perhaps this episode will be called the “Worldwide Attention Tour” 😂
Finally, for those interested in philosophy - check out the concept the “banality of evil”. It really works to explain the phenomenon of Taylor Swift in our culture.
Stay mad!
2024.05.19 00:42 Gizwizard The CC solar system
Okay, I’ve been driving myself mad over the representation of Midgard’s solar system.
At this point, I believe that midgard’s solar system follows the geocentric model. To save a click, the geocentric model has earth at the center of the solar system with the following celestial bodies orbiting it: the moon, sun, Venus, Mercury, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn.
I say this because, according to Bryce (ch. 17 HOFAS), Midgard recognizes 7 planets: Siph, Orestes, Oden, Lakos, Thurr, Farya, and Sol. In the center of the room is an 8-pointed star that represents Midgard (Earth).
This is interesting to me because the planetary names are mostly, seemingly Norse in origin. I say most because Orestes is Greek. Even more interestingly Orsestes’ name is the same in Greek and Roman mythology (which didn’t usually happen). I find this interesting because Azriel essentially says “we have an Oresetes too”.
Anyway, my best guess is:
Moon —> Lakos (Loki) - I’m unsure about this one. Loki doesn’t really have any direct Roman/Greek counterparts exactly. He is sometimes likened to Eris (who was also a trickster), but, essentially, Loki wasn’t so worshipped that the Romans brought him into the pantheon.
Sun —> Sol - pretty self explanatory
Venus —> Fayra - Freja was the goddess of wisdom and love, as was Venus. This seems like a pretty straightforward translation.
Mercury —> Oden - there are some who liken Mercury to Odin because Odin is a physcopomp, etc. admittedly, some of the things that made the Romans liken Odin to Mercury could also apply to Loki (trickery being one).
Mars —> Orestes - Orestes is known as the warrior. Mars is a god of war. Interestingly, the equivalent in Norse myth to Mars would be Tyr.
Jupiter —> Thurr - again, some things could tie Jupiter to Odin (chief of the Roman pantheon, etc) but, I think this is a mapping that is best explained in world for CC. Bryce, in book 2, describes thurr as a god who has a name of the week named after him and a planet. Both of these things apply to Jupiter (Jupiter being the god who Thursday irl is actually named after).
Saturn —> Siph - this one I really don’t have any basis on. Sif is often associated with DemeteCeres. And while there is a celestial body for Ceres (that lies in an asteroid belt near Jupiter) that wasn’t discovered until the 1800s. This could be a play on the geocentric model, tho, and SJM could just be ignoring Saturn (and Neptune, etc).
Anyway, I’d love to hear others thoughts on this. It’s been in my head for too long!
submitted by Gizwizard to crescentcitysjm [link] [comments]
At this point, I believe that midgard’s solar system follows the geocentric model. To save a click, the geocentric model has earth at the center of the solar system with the following celestial bodies orbiting it: the moon, sun, Venus, Mercury, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn.
I say this because, according to Bryce (ch. 17 HOFAS), Midgard recognizes 7 planets: Siph, Orestes, Oden, Lakos, Thurr, Farya, and Sol. In the center of the room is an 8-pointed star that represents Midgard (Earth).
This is interesting to me because the planetary names are mostly, seemingly Norse in origin. I say most because Orestes is Greek. Even more interestingly Orsestes’ name is the same in Greek and Roman mythology (which didn’t usually happen). I find this interesting because Azriel essentially says “we have an Oresetes too”.
“Orestes?” Azriel asked sharply, drawing her attention back to where he and Nesta still stood at the tunnel archway. “The warrior?”So, here is the passage from HOFAS as Bryce encounters and names the planets of Midgard:
“Interesting,” Nesta said, head angling. “Perhaps the name came from the same source.”
… Her boot knocked against a raised half-orb, a screaming face carved into it. “Siph.” The outermost planet. She went to the next, a similar mound with a grave male face. “Orestes.”Okay, so, I’ve tormented myself trying to make sense of how she laid out the planets, but I think, ultimately, we can’t really say anything about how the order of the planets because they seem to be depicted as orbiting around Midgard, so as Bryce approaches an orb on the ground… it doesn’t necessarily mean she’s calling them out in order.
Bryce indicated the next mound, the face of a bearded old man. “Oden.” The next, closer to the center of the room, was a young, laughing male. “Lakos.” Another mound rose on the other side of the star, massive and helmeted. “Thurr,” she said. Then she pointed to a mound with a female head. “Farya.” And beyond Farya, a large, raised mound with snaking tendrils. “Sol,” she whispered, indicating the sun-shaped thing.
She scanned the room again and turned to the eight-pointed star. Directly between Lakos and Thurr. “Midgard.”
Anyway, my best guess is:
Moon —> Lakos (Loki) - I’m unsure about this one. Loki doesn’t really have any direct Roman/Greek counterparts exactly. He is sometimes likened to Eris (who was also a trickster), but, essentially, Loki wasn’t so worshipped that the Romans brought him into the pantheon.
Sun —> Sol - pretty self explanatory
Venus —> Fayra - Freja was the goddess of wisdom and love, as was Venus. This seems like a pretty straightforward translation.
Mercury —> Oden - there are some who liken Mercury to Odin because Odin is a physcopomp, etc. admittedly, some of the things that made the Romans liken Odin to Mercury could also apply to Loki (trickery being one).
Mars —> Orestes - Orestes is known as the warrior. Mars is a god of war. Interestingly, the equivalent in Norse myth to Mars would be Tyr.
Jupiter —> Thurr - again, some things could tie Jupiter to Odin (chief of the Roman pantheon, etc) but, I think this is a mapping that is best explained in world for CC. Bryce, in book 2, describes thurr as a god who has a name of the week named after him and a planet. Both of these things apply to Jupiter (Jupiter being the god who Thursday irl is actually named after).
Saturn —> Siph - this one I really don’t have any basis on. Sif is often associated with DemeteCeres. And while there is a celestial body for Ceres (that lies in an asteroid belt near Jupiter) that wasn’t discovered until the 1800s. This could be a play on the geocentric model, tho, and SJM could just be ignoring Saturn (and Neptune, etc).
Anyway, I’d love to hear others thoughts on this. It’s been in my head for too long!
2024.05.18 22:57 Hunnyandmilk I wrapped my body with duct tape every day in middle school
I remember when I was a little girl I would look in the mirror and just be so disappointed, in my mind, I was ugly, stupid, and poor, and it broke me completely. I would get bullied heavily in elementary school not only because I was poor but because I was chubby, while I ate lunch kids would stand by my desk and make pig sounds at me, oinking and calling me butterball. They told me I had meth head teeth. The only thing I liked about myself was my freckles but that brief feeling of liking myself soon disappeared when one boy told me it looked like I had shit splattered on my face.
I was eleven when I began to diet, whiten my teeth, and wear makeup. My teeth naturally straightened out on their own and I shed the weight with the help of heavy restriction, not without developing an obsession over how I looked. When I was twelve, boys began to notice me, I broke my nose and in doing so had to get it straightened out so I could breathe properly, no longer did I have my father's Roman nose which I so despised. I wanted desperately to be like the girls who ignored me and to be liked by the boys who bullied me for a little baby fat.
Because of this obsession, I didn't believe people when they told me I was pretty. Compliments always felt ingenuine and I naturally assumed boys were asking me out as a joke so I turned every single one down out of fear of humiliation. Deep inside me something seethed, I wasn't satisfied with the weight I had lost and begged and cried until my mom shared her Ozempic with me. I was thirteen.
Still, I could describe in detail the way I picked apart every flaw, the way I had autopsies on past conversations, searching for a new insecurity. One day I went into my dad's toolbox and stole his roll of duck tape and wrapped it around my waist. I was amazed by how beautiful I looked, my waist was the smallest of all the girls at my school and this felt like a victory. I tailored my favourite sundress on my mom's sewing machine to fit my brand-new waist and wore it to the first day back from summer break.
Everyone turned their heads to look at me, I thought that only happened in the movies until I strolled into English class with a waist the size of a tangerine. I shoved lies through my teeth about a gym and diet plan I had done over the summer to make myself look so small, my friends listened with eager ears and wide eyes trained on my midriff. The attention was more addictive than any substance I've put into my body. My friend had told me how the boys were talking about me and how they planned to ask me out, that's when I made up my mind.
It felt like a poison I happily drank, knowing all of the risks. Every Sunday after church I walked to the Dollar General by my house and bought five rolls of duct tape, two dollars each for one week of classes, ten dollars in total. The same woman was always there and she always smiled at me, asking what I did with all of the tape, my face would split into a sickly sweet smile as I told her a new falsehood every time.
My mother would comment on how she didn't want me to go anywhere by myself because I was too pretty to do so, this was like pouring gasoline onto my forest fire. In the morning when everyone was sleeping, I wrapped one roll of duct tape around my waist so no one could hear the sound; I took it off before my showers at night, water running as pain pushed tears from my eyes and bit the inside of my cheek until I could taste iron flood my gums. I was left with cuts and tears in my skin, flesh tender with torture, still, I mummified my body every morning with duct tape. Sometimes I would do my thighs if I wore leggings or skinny jeans so people would comment on my impressive thigh gap.
After a year of doing this, my midriff looked like a piece of raw steak beaten with a meat tenderizer until it was almost torn apart entirely. I wouldn't even let people touch me in fear that they could feel through my attempt at perfection. I started skipping church. Every weekend I shut myself inside so I could breathe at full capacity while I shut my blinds and stared at my ceiling, my mind went numb with the impending doom that I would suffocate myself with that dreadful silver tape when the bell rang. My whole life I had heard that beauty is pain and that's all I thought this was, I thought that models did similar things and it was just something I had to accept to be beautiful.
Essentially, I had turned into a zombie; my breathing was shallow, and I became pale, clammy, shaking, and nauseous. I couldn't stomach meals. Every night I would wake up around midnight and cough up my guts but I hadn't eaten any food so there was nothing left in me to vomit but bile and eventually blood. I stopped talking to people, I thought it better for them just to look at my pretty long lashes and my tiny little waist than to listen to me tell them I was fine through shaky breaths. My dad was so scared for me, he kept bringing food into my bedroom and would come to collect the uneaten dish when he dropped off the next. He couldn't look at me without crying. It was just his drowsy gaze piercing into my vacant skull while we both swallowed back what we wanted to say, the words dying in our throats, never to be heard.
Everything hurt all of the time, it didn't matter anymore whether I had the duct tape on or not. I almost preferred the feeling of it on so the stinging of the cuts and the soreness of my ribs was shielded by something. One day in PE the teacher asked me to sit out so I did. I tried my best to keep my vision straight and my head up while I watched the other kids play California kickball. It was okay until there was a suffocating feeling, like something was consuming everything in my body like tiny creatures with razor-sharp teeth were cutting their way up my organs. My body began to convulse as I coughed until I fell to my hands and knees, coughing up this invisible force in my throat. The game stopped abruptly and every pair of beady eyes turned to watch me writhe in pain on the dusty gym floor while I clawed at my chest and throat, eager to tear the skin off completely.
Mr. Duke jogged over to me, crouching down to my level and putting a hand on my back. With furrowed eyebrows, he asked what was happening and with nothing more than Ozempic running through my system, I screamed at him to get away from me. That final wave came like a million little hands of wind pushing at the back of my throat until I heaved up the very last of what was left in me. Hands flew over mouths while some gagged at the sickness once inside of me. On that floor was a pile of what looked to be red coffee grounds in a little puddle of cherry wine. I was as terrified as anyone else in the gym, I screamed between heavy sobs while scuttling away from the mess I had made.
I knew that this was the end of me, that I would be taken to a hospital and everyone would know what I had done. I didn't even need to go to the hospital for everyone to know what I had done. Once I had collected myself and began talking frantically in a hushed circle of my friends while we waited for the ambulance, one boy on the hockey team caught a glimpse of shimmering silver beneath my gym strip and snuck up behind me, pulling my shirt up and revealing the secret I carried like a cross I had to bear.
My back laden with strips of duct tape like it was armour was on display to my entire class, my shame shown to what I had perceived to be the entire world. The girls didn't find this so funny but the boys came up with the name of Tape-Face. I remember rushing to the locker room with my friends following close behind, I grabbed scissors from my pencil case and began to cut it off myself, ripping it away madly along with little segments of flesh. My friends watched in horror, they just stood like it was a game of wax museum and I was the security guard there to punish whichever moved first.
In the hospital, I couldn't face my parents, not even the doctor, I kept my eyes locked on my lap. I couldn't see their stares but I could certainly feel them digging into me like a frog on a dissection table. My mom was utterly speechless and my dad spoke only through voice cracks and subtle sobs while he brought me soggy sandwiches from the cafe on the first floor.
I took another week off school because I could predict the painfully true rumours and when I finally set foot back into the school, it was worse than I anticipated. I felt hideous, like a pig that had been chugging back lard in my t-shirt, sweatpants, and perfectly average body. My friends were hesitant to eat around me and tiptoed around the incident like it had never happened which almost felt worse than bringing it up. Others were not so kind. A group of kids, guys and girls all mixed together, the kind that stole cigarettes from their parents had waited until I came back to sneak away from class and cover my locker in duct tape. Over top of the tape they scribbled on a dictionary of names they would call me in the hallway "Tape-Face" "Fraud" "Botched" "Duct tape Barbie". One of the girls sat behind me in math and had cut little squares of duct tape to stick them into my hair, I called my mom in the principal's office and cried while the secretary had to cut it out of my hair.
My dad made the decision to pull me out of school, so I started homeschooling but that didn't stop the harassment. We lived close to the school and during lunch and after school kids would throw duct tape wallets and wads of tape onto the porch. My dad's final straw was when someone dropped off a Barbie whose waist and thighs had been wrapped in duct tape in our mailbox. He had contacted not only the school but the parents of the kids several times with no avail to the torment ending anytime soon. He moved us to a new town where I could go to class without anyone knowing the pain I subjected myself to for two years.
I'm in college now and I've never told anyone this. I've cut contact with everyone from that school. One of the bullies tried to reach out and apologize, blaming her behaviour on mental illness but that felt like she had shattered a plate and said sorry, thinking that it would put the plate back together. I told her I didn't forgive her and blocked her. A boy from the hockey team also messaged me, the one who flipped my shirt up. He said he just had a daughter he couldn't imagine her going through what I went through and that he's sorry for what he did. All I had to say was that I hope she doesn't have to go through what he put me through either.
submitted by Hunnyandmilk to confessions [link] [comments]
I was eleven when I began to diet, whiten my teeth, and wear makeup. My teeth naturally straightened out on their own and I shed the weight with the help of heavy restriction, not without developing an obsession over how I looked. When I was twelve, boys began to notice me, I broke my nose and in doing so had to get it straightened out so I could breathe properly, no longer did I have my father's Roman nose which I so despised. I wanted desperately to be like the girls who ignored me and to be liked by the boys who bullied me for a little baby fat.
Because of this obsession, I didn't believe people when they told me I was pretty. Compliments always felt ingenuine and I naturally assumed boys were asking me out as a joke so I turned every single one down out of fear of humiliation. Deep inside me something seethed, I wasn't satisfied with the weight I had lost and begged and cried until my mom shared her Ozempic with me. I was thirteen.
Still, I could describe in detail the way I picked apart every flaw, the way I had autopsies on past conversations, searching for a new insecurity. One day I went into my dad's toolbox and stole his roll of duck tape and wrapped it around my waist. I was amazed by how beautiful I looked, my waist was the smallest of all the girls at my school and this felt like a victory. I tailored my favourite sundress on my mom's sewing machine to fit my brand-new waist and wore it to the first day back from summer break.
Everyone turned their heads to look at me, I thought that only happened in the movies until I strolled into English class with a waist the size of a tangerine. I shoved lies through my teeth about a gym and diet plan I had done over the summer to make myself look so small, my friends listened with eager ears and wide eyes trained on my midriff. The attention was more addictive than any substance I've put into my body. My friend had told me how the boys were talking about me and how they planned to ask me out, that's when I made up my mind.
It felt like a poison I happily drank, knowing all of the risks. Every Sunday after church I walked to the Dollar General by my house and bought five rolls of duct tape, two dollars each for one week of classes, ten dollars in total. The same woman was always there and she always smiled at me, asking what I did with all of the tape, my face would split into a sickly sweet smile as I told her a new falsehood every time.
My mother would comment on how she didn't want me to go anywhere by myself because I was too pretty to do so, this was like pouring gasoline onto my forest fire. In the morning when everyone was sleeping, I wrapped one roll of duct tape around my waist so no one could hear the sound; I took it off before my showers at night, water running as pain pushed tears from my eyes and bit the inside of my cheek until I could taste iron flood my gums. I was left with cuts and tears in my skin, flesh tender with torture, still, I mummified my body every morning with duct tape. Sometimes I would do my thighs if I wore leggings or skinny jeans so people would comment on my impressive thigh gap.
After a year of doing this, my midriff looked like a piece of raw steak beaten with a meat tenderizer until it was almost torn apart entirely. I wouldn't even let people touch me in fear that they could feel through my attempt at perfection. I started skipping church. Every weekend I shut myself inside so I could breathe at full capacity while I shut my blinds and stared at my ceiling, my mind went numb with the impending doom that I would suffocate myself with that dreadful silver tape when the bell rang. My whole life I had heard that beauty is pain and that's all I thought this was, I thought that models did similar things and it was just something I had to accept to be beautiful.
Essentially, I had turned into a zombie; my breathing was shallow, and I became pale, clammy, shaking, and nauseous. I couldn't stomach meals. Every night I would wake up around midnight and cough up my guts but I hadn't eaten any food so there was nothing left in me to vomit but bile and eventually blood. I stopped talking to people, I thought it better for them just to look at my pretty long lashes and my tiny little waist than to listen to me tell them I was fine through shaky breaths. My dad was so scared for me, he kept bringing food into my bedroom and would come to collect the uneaten dish when he dropped off the next. He couldn't look at me without crying. It was just his drowsy gaze piercing into my vacant skull while we both swallowed back what we wanted to say, the words dying in our throats, never to be heard.
Everything hurt all of the time, it didn't matter anymore whether I had the duct tape on or not. I almost preferred the feeling of it on so the stinging of the cuts and the soreness of my ribs was shielded by something. One day in PE the teacher asked me to sit out so I did. I tried my best to keep my vision straight and my head up while I watched the other kids play California kickball. It was okay until there was a suffocating feeling, like something was consuming everything in my body like tiny creatures with razor-sharp teeth were cutting their way up my organs. My body began to convulse as I coughed until I fell to my hands and knees, coughing up this invisible force in my throat. The game stopped abruptly and every pair of beady eyes turned to watch me writhe in pain on the dusty gym floor while I clawed at my chest and throat, eager to tear the skin off completely.
Mr. Duke jogged over to me, crouching down to my level and putting a hand on my back. With furrowed eyebrows, he asked what was happening and with nothing more than Ozempic running through my system, I screamed at him to get away from me. That final wave came like a million little hands of wind pushing at the back of my throat until I heaved up the very last of what was left in me. Hands flew over mouths while some gagged at the sickness once inside of me. On that floor was a pile of what looked to be red coffee grounds in a little puddle of cherry wine. I was as terrified as anyone else in the gym, I screamed between heavy sobs while scuttling away from the mess I had made.
I knew that this was the end of me, that I would be taken to a hospital and everyone would know what I had done. I didn't even need to go to the hospital for everyone to know what I had done. Once I had collected myself and began talking frantically in a hushed circle of my friends while we waited for the ambulance, one boy on the hockey team caught a glimpse of shimmering silver beneath my gym strip and snuck up behind me, pulling my shirt up and revealing the secret I carried like a cross I had to bear.
My back laden with strips of duct tape like it was armour was on display to my entire class, my shame shown to what I had perceived to be the entire world. The girls didn't find this so funny but the boys came up with the name of Tape-Face. I remember rushing to the locker room with my friends following close behind, I grabbed scissors from my pencil case and began to cut it off myself, ripping it away madly along with little segments of flesh. My friends watched in horror, they just stood like it was a game of wax museum and I was the security guard there to punish whichever moved first.
In the hospital, I couldn't face my parents, not even the doctor, I kept my eyes locked on my lap. I couldn't see their stares but I could certainly feel them digging into me like a frog on a dissection table. My mom was utterly speechless and my dad spoke only through voice cracks and subtle sobs while he brought me soggy sandwiches from the cafe on the first floor.
I took another week off school because I could predict the painfully true rumours and when I finally set foot back into the school, it was worse than I anticipated. I felt hideous, like a pig that had been chugging back lard in my t-shirt, sweatpants, and perfectly average body. My friends were hesitant to eat around me and tiptoed around the incident like it had never happened which almost felt worse than bringing it up. Others were not so kind. A group of kids, guys and girls all mixed together, the kind that stole cigarettes from their parents had waited until I came back to sneak away from class and cover my locker in duct tape. Over top of the tape they scribbled on a dictionary of names they would call me in the hallway "Tape-Face" "Fraud" "Botched" "Duct tape Barbie". One of the girls sat behind me in math and had cut little squares of duct tape to stick them into my hair, I called my mom in the principal's office and cried while the secretary had to cut it out of my hair.
My dad made the decision to pull me out of school, so I started homeschooling but that didn't stop the harassment. We lived close to the school and during lunch and after school kids would throw duct tape wallets and wads of tape onto the porch. My dad's final straw was when someone dropped off a Barbie whose waist and thighs had been wrapped in duct tape in our mailbox. He had contacted not only the school but the parents of the kids several times with no avail to the torment ending anytime soon. He moved us to a new town where I could go to class without anyone knowing the pain I subjected myself to for two years.
I'm in college now and I've never told anyone this. I've cut contact with everyone from that school. One of the bullies tried to reach out and apologize, blaming her behaviour on mental illness but that felt like she had shattered a plate and said sorry, thinking that it would put the plate back together. I told her I didn't forgive her and blocked her. A boy from the hockey team also messaged me, the one who flipped my shirt up. He said he just had a daughter he couldn't imagine her going through what I went through and that he's sorry for what he did. All I had to say was that I hope she doesn't have to go through what he put me through either.
2024.05.18 21:22 candee710 Do I have a case against the hospital that
Around Thanksgiving last year, my 22 year old daughter Izzy started complaining about her back hurting. We just assumed she pulled a muscle or had a pinched nerve. After a couple weeks, the pain seemed to be getting worse. She went to urgent care on a Friday and they confirmed she probably had a pinched nerve. They gave her some meds. That following Monday (Dec. 18) she was in a lot of pain, so I rushed her to the hospital. It was her back and her left arm now bothering her. They blew her off and said that she was fine. I insisted that she get an MRI or cat scan done. Finally at my request they did a cat scan on her back and said they didn't see anything wrong. They said it's probably a pinched nerve, gave her more meds and sent us home.
The week of Christmas everything changed. She woke up each night covered in sweat. On the 28th, her heart was beating fast, she was extremely pale, and had two knots appear on the left side of her neck and one under her left underarm. I brought her to a different hospital.
When we got to the ER, they immediately took her to a room. Her vitals were extremely high (170 heart rate) from the pain she was in. They were considering that she could have meningitis or mono. They wanted to get tests ran right away. They admitted her, and did a spinal tap and MRI. 2 days later (Saturday) the doc said they found a large tumor on her spine. Can't say if it's cancer yet, she would need a biopsy first. They informed us that she would be moved that day to their sister hospital that specializes in cancer.
When we arrived, she was put on the neurology ward in a regular room. They immediately put her on a lot of meds. She was on so many pain drugs, (Oxy, Dilaudid, muscle relaxers, Morphine, Xanax, etc.) that I kept asking, "Is this end of life? Can she overdose from all these drugs?" They would respond with, "no, it's just to keep her comfortable and we're trying to get her heart rate down." On New years day they gave her Ativan. She responded horribly to it. It was a rough day. She was hallucinating and freaking out all day and night. The next day she told them to NEVER give her that again. They told her when we first arrived that anything she didn't want to take, they would respect and not put it in her charts to receive. They would put it under allergies. We assumed they would do so as they said they would.
They finally did the biopsy on Wednesday the 3rd. When she came back from surgery, she wouldn't wake up. She slept all day Wednesday and most of Thursday. I was really concerned.They kept adding more pain meds to her chart. I again was scared she would forget to breathe. That night she wasn't breathing properly and her vitals were going down. She had to be rushed to NeuroICU. They got her stable and explained it was from all the different drugs. They explained that it's trial and error. They're trying to figure out what works for her and they decided to put her on a drip line of Dilaudid. They still gave her other drugs but Dilaudid seemed to help her pain somewhat. They also said she had a spot on her lungs what looked like pneumonia starting.
All week she was constantly telling us that she was losing feeling in her legs and her left arm. By Saturday of that week she was paralyzed. They finally took her for an MRI and saw that the tumor had spread up and down her spine and to her ovaries, and it was stealing her blood supply. She would need emergency surgery asap. They of course came to explain what was happening and the surgeon informed me that Ativan would be used during surgery. I immediately told him no, and that she is allergic to it and it was supposed to be on her allergy list. I explained to him what happened when she received it before. On Sunday they rushed her into surgery and cut the blood supply to the tumor. It was too dangerous to try and remove any of the tumor. They didn't know if the paralysis was permanent, but they were hopeful that the surgery would work. It didn't we would later find out.
When she returned from surgery, she was out of control. She was violent and cursing at me. In 22 years I had never heard her curse, but she was fluent! She was hallucinating bad and kept freaking out. It was scary to watch. They decided to give her some meds to make her to sleep, to help her heal. For 2 straight days my baby screamed blood curdling screams, she would cry out "mommy, mommy" while she slept. She screamed so much and so loud that anyone in ear shot were questioning what was going on. It was heartbreaking to witness. I thought she was having a bad reaction to the anesthesia. I later found out that they were giving her Ativan anyway. They NEVER put it in her chart as an allergy the week before, and the doctor disregarded what I said about not giving her that. They had other options they could have used but he still chose to do what he wanted. I only found out because the nurse mentioned that she would be right back with her Ativan. The nurse had no knowledge that my daughter refused that medication previously. I informed her not to give that drug to her. She went and spoke with the attending physician who changed it to haldol and ketemine. That was Monday night. By Wednesday she finally calmed down from screaming, so they decided to try and wake her up.
When she woke up she could no longer speak properly, use her left arm, or move her legs. Her fingers and toes were turning black. They said it was from a certain med she was on. That it's normal. A lay person could see something was horribly wrong.
Everyday we would see up to 30 doctors. I say we, because I never left her side. One would say one thing while another would say something else. It was confusing and scary. We still didn't have a diagnosis. We just knew she had cancer. They suspected stage 4 but couldn't say until pathology came back. It was traumatic and a nightmare. It went from a diagnosis of a pinched nerve to stage 4 cancer in a matter of a week. WTF?
We finally got the diagnosis on Tuesday the 9th.. Stage 4 anaplastic large cell lymphoma. Very rare and aggressive. They said they were starting chemo immediately. They gave her the first dose that Wednesday night. We had hope. It was a rollercoaster of terror, but the doctors kept saying that she could beat this. I googled everything I could and prayed for a miracle. It's always been my girl and I, so I was desperate for her to live through this. She wasn't just my daughter, she was literally my everything.
By week 2, she needed blood on a daily basis. She couldn't eat or drink. She couldn't relieve herself. She couldn't move. She couldn't speak clearly to explain her needs or wants. Her breathing was shallow. Her vitals were not normal. They would go down and then jump extremely high. She was so out of it, that they had to come to me concerning everything. Her oxygen was dropping significantly and they had to keep changing out the masks and oxygen levels to help her breathe. They kept changing her meds and she had multiple complications from that. They couldn't find any good spots on her arms to put her IVs anymore, and her legs were so swollen that they couldn't locate a useable spot anywhere. They put it on her right side of the neck. During all this she had multiple medical emergencies. One example is they said that spot on her lungs wasn't pneumonia but they now suspected a small blood clot. That medicine she was given would hopefully help, the only problem was that medication was causing problems for her back surgery. A few days later we found out it was blood and it was completely filled up in her chest. She was drowning in her own blood. They couldn't do surgery right away because she would bleed out since her platelets were so low even while receiving blood transfusions. That blood was somehow going into her lungs. I was floored. Everyday I would ask about it and I was told it was getting better, nothing to worry about. In fact the doctor said that very morning it had cleared up significantly. Imagine my shock when the critical team comes rushing in that evening to do ultrasounds on her and tells me they suspect it's why her breathing was going downhill.
On Monday she was transferred to a MICU room on a different floor. This floor felt uneasy to me. There was death all around and you could see it. They said that this floor was where her main doctors were, so that she would get the best care. Now they introduce fentanyl to her med regimen. They explained it that it would help with her pain. She would be allowed so much every hour if needed.
The next day they decided to do the surgery to put a tube in her chest to drain the blood. She now had an extremely dangerous back surgery, staples running up her entire back with tubes, a huge scar under her arm from the biopsy with tubes, and now a huge tube coming out her chest. Her fingers and toes at this point were in a stage of necropsy. But they couldn't do anything about it. They would just have to fall off in time. It was devastating. My daughter was a trooper through out this whole time. She never complained or was negative. She was just scared when she understood what was going on. Honestly I've never seen so much courage in my life.
When it came to her pain meds she was only on fentanyl and Dilaudid drip. She would only receive it when she asked. That was her rule. She was scared she would overdose or become hooked on it and didn't want that monster on her back. She would be in so much pain but would just sit through it. Her vitals were better, but when the pain would become to much to bare, her heart rate would go into the 150 to 170 range. As soon as she got some meds it would go down to the teens to low twenty's.
On Thursday night she had a new nurse. He would administer pain meds even when she didn't request it. I saw him give her shot when she was sleeping. I walked in on him. I asked him if she requested it as I saw she was asleep and he said no. He stated he was trying to keep her comfortable. I asked him not to unless she asks. He didn't listen.Throughout the night as we slept, he would give her meds that she didn't even need. He gave her haldol. She only received that for two days after her back surgery. No one had given her that since. He would give her a shot of fentanyl behind it. I later found this out while talking with her doctors and from her records.
That Friday morning she started having these weird episodes, what later looked like seizures to me. Her vitals would drop and she would go into a deep stare. They blamed the meds. It was constant apologies for her being over medicated again. Even the doctor didn't understand why he gave her so much.She had 4 separate episodes before they (at my constant request) sent her to get a MRI done.
She had a blood clot in her brain. Again they said nothing to worry about. But after experiencing what we went through already, I was highly concerned. As I should have been. They kept apologizing and said they would change her medication up again. I told them it wasn't the medicine it was the nurse. I couldn't understand why he would give her two doses of haldol when she didn't need it. The nurse said my daughter was anxious and thought it would help. My daughter was sleeping so how could she have been anxious. I went off. Something in my spirit was telling me to get her out of there. But how could I when she was hooked up to all these tubes. She was suffering and I couldn't help her. The only thing I could do was use my voice to try and protect her and be her advocate. The next day Jan. 20th, I woke up after a couple hours of sleep, and I knew something was wrong. She was awake and trying to talk. Her vitals were back at a steady 170 with high blood pressure and a low oxygen number so I knew she was in pain. I could feel it in every bone of my body something was different that day. I felt my baby didn't have long as I thought cancer was winning. I called all of our family to come see her. I can't explain it. At one point I pulled one of her doctors out of her room and begged him to tell me what was happening. Shoot it to me straight. He kept saying she's always been critical but she would pull through. He had so much hope.
They gave her some meds to help bring her vitals down and it started to work again. Her vitals started going from 160 to 150. At this point she was having a brain scan done in her room to see what the episodes were exactly. She was awake but could no longer move from her neck down. Which had just started the 2 days before. She had a blood infection and they had to move the pic line from the right side of her neck to the left side but we're unsuccessful because she had obstructions there (2 huge tumors) They had to put the new line back on the right side in the back of the neck. I don't know what happened since I wasn't allowed in the room. I do know my daughter said after they finished, she wasn't able to feel anything but her face. She never turned her head again.
During that day she kept having flem and spit from the congestion she had due to the chest infection and surgery. I would sit there and suck it out for her. No problem, I had been doing it for days with no complaints on my end. The doctors were coming in and out constantly all day to check her brain test and at one point the doctor seeing me and my nephew take shifts suctioning her out said he wanted to try a new medicine she had never received. My daughters nurse interrupted him and said that she didn't think that it was a good idea. They went back and forth for a few minutes and I stepped in and said, it was fine, I would sit there and suction out forever if I had to. Something felt different in this exchange as well. In all of 24 days of being in the hospital, I never saw a nurse challenge a doctor. I immediately went to the computer, where the nurse had typed in the order for this drug, and googled it. The first thing that popped up, was not to give this drug to someone with high blood pressure or high heart rate. It causes a person's heart rate to shoot up high quickly. It was too late. They already administered it to her. Since her heart rate was already high it caused her to go into cardiac arrest. I just stood there in shock screaming is she in cardiac arrest? To which the doctor finally responded "I'm sorry, yes"
They ushered me and my nephew out of the room so they could work on her. After about 30 minutes they called my phone and told me she flatlined but they got her heart beating again. I went flying back in that room screaming at them. I refused to leave the room. She was now on life support, but there was no hope for her to ever wake up again. After consulting with my family and her doctors, and looking at where her vitals were, I decided to pull the plug. She passed within seconds. I feel like the doctor should have listened to the nurse, but his ego would not allow him to. I feel like he's somehow responsible, but at the same time I saw what was happening to her on a daily basis and what cancer was doing to her body. I also witnessed a lot of negligence too on their part. I've been going back and forth since January 20th, about contacting an attorney and seeing if I have a case. I requested an autopsy to be performed, because I wanted to know what all was wrong with her. They informed me they normally don't do that because of the cancer. I argued with them and said I wanted one anyway. I wanted to know what happened. I was trying to understand this whole situation. 25 days prior it was just supposed to be a pinched nerve, but it wasn't. They explained I would have to pay for the autopsy, and I was okay with that. The next day after she passed away, I received the phone call to give my permission for an autopsy. They said it would take a couple days and would let me know when it was finished so the funeral home could pick up her body.
I've been calling for months about the autopsy report with no luck. Here we are in May, I go to the hospital to get the autopsy results and it's all of five pages. It's not even an autopsy report. It doesn't even state her cause of death. It's just bullshit paperwork. All it mentions is the necropsy to her fingers and toes and her basic info like height and weight. I'm so angry right now. I have her medical records, and I noticed on the 19th of January they finally put she was allergic to Ativan. There's a lot wrong with this situation. I even asked for a CD of all her images, from pathology. What I received only two images come up. Everything else is blocked from opening. I know my daughter took multiple MRIs, ultrasounds,and CAT scans in those three and a half weeks. There's no way it's only two images.
I counted all the times the nurse gave my daughter pain meds that Thursday night and it was double what any other nurse had given her at any other time plus with other drugs she didn't need at that time. I found out that haldol and fentanyl is something they give to patients that's in end of life care. Which I was constantly told my daughter was not. Her death certificate states she passed from lymphoma related cardiac arrest. I'm just so confused on what to do. I feel like I'm letting my daughter down if I don't look into this further.
I'm sorry this a novel. I couldn't just ask a simple question with out the back story for you to understand. It was so much more believe me, this was the short version!
Do I have a case or should I just move on and accept my daughter died from cancer related complications? Thank you....
submitted by candee710 to legaladvice [link] [comments]
The week of Christmas everything changed. She woke up each night covered in sweat. On the 28th, her heart was beating fast, she was extremely pale, and had two knots appear on the left side of her neck and one under her left underarm. I brought her to a different hospital.
When we got to the ER, they immediately took her to a room. Her vitals were extremely high (170 heart rate) from the pain she was in. They were considering that she could have meningitis or mono. They wanted to get tests ran right away. They admitted her, and did a spinal tap and MRI. 2 days later (Saturday) the doc said they found a large tumor on her spine. Can't say if it's cancer yet, she would need a biopsy first. They informed us that she would be moved that day to their sister hospital that specializes in cancer.
When we arrived, she was put on the neurology ward in a regular room. They immediately put her on a lot of meds. She was on so many pain drugs, (Oxy, Dilaudid, muscle relaxers, Morphine, Xanax, etc.) that I kept asking, "Is this end of life? Can she overdose from all these drugs?" They would respond with, "no, it's just to keep her comfortable and we're trying to get her heart rate down." On New years day they gave her Ativan. She responded horribly to it. It was a rough day. She was hallucinating and freaking out all day and night. The next day she told them to NEVER give her that again. They told her when we first arrived that anything she didn't want to take, they would respect and not put it in her charts to receive. They would put it under allergies. We assumed they would do so as they said they would.
They finally did the biopsy on Wednesday the 3rd. When she came back from surgery, she wouldn't wake up. She slept all day Wednesday and most of Thursday. I was really concerned.They kept adding more pain meds to her chart. I again was scared she would forget to breathe. That night she wasn't breathing properly and her vitals were going down. She had to be rushed to NeuroICU. They got her stable and explained it was from all the different drugs. They explained that it's trial and error. They're trying to figure out what works for her and they decided to put her on a drip line of Dilaudid. They still gave her other drugs but Dilaudid seemed to help her pain somewhat. They also said she had a spot on her lungs what looked like pneumonia starting.
All week she was constantly telling us that she was losing feeling in her legs and her left arm. By Saturday of that week she was paralyzed. They finally took her for an MRI and saw that the tumor had spread up and down her spine and to her ovaries, and it was stealing her blood supply. She would need emergency surgery asap. They of course came to explain what was happening and the surgeon informed me that Ativan would be used during surgery. I immediately told him no, and that she is allergic to it and it was supposed to be on her allergy list. I explained to him what happened when she received it before. On Sunday they rushed her into surgery and cut the blood supply to the tumor. It was too dangerous to try and remove any of the tumor. They didn't know if the paralysis was permanent, but they were hopeful that the surgery would work. It didn't we would later find out.
When she returned from surgery, she was out of control. She was violent and cursing at me. In 22 years I had never heard her curse, but she was fluent! She was hallucinating bad and kept freaking out. It was scary to watch. They decided to give her some meds to make her to sleep, to help her heal. For 2 straight days my baby screamed blood curdling screams, she would cry out "mommy, mommy" while she slept. She screamed so much and so loud that anyone in ear shot were questioning what was going on. It was heartbreaking to witness. I thought she was having a bad reaction to the anesthesia. I later found out that they were giving her Ativan anyway. They NEVER put it in her chart as an allergy the week before, and the doctor disregarded what I said about not giving her that. They had other options they could have used but he still chose to do what he wanted. I only found out because the nurse mentioned that she would be right back with her Ativan. The nurse had no knowledge that my daughter refused that medication previously. I informed her not to give that drug to her. She went and spoke with the attending physician who changed it to haldol and ketemine. That was Monday night. By Wednesday she finally calmed down from screaming, so they decided to try and wake her up.
When she woke up she could no longer speak properly, use her left arm, or move her legs. Her fingers and toes were turning black. They said it was from a certain med she was on. That it's normal. A lay person could see something was horribly wrong.
Everyday we would see up to 30 doctors. I say we, because I never left her side. One would say one thing while another would say something else. It was confusing and scary. We still didn't have a diagnosis. We just knew she had cancer. They suspected stage 4 but couldn't say until pathology came back. It was traumatic and a nightmare. It went from a diagnosis of a pinched nerve to stage 4 cancer in a matter of a week. WTF?
We finally got the diagnosis on Tuesday the 9th.. Stage 4 anaplastic large cell lymphoma. Very rare and aggressive. They said they were starting chemo immediately. They gave her the first dose that Wednesday night. We had hope. It was a rollercoaster of terror, but the doctors kept saying that she could beat this. I googled everything I could and prayed for a miracle. It's always been my girl and I, so I was desperate for her to live through this. She wasn't just my daughter, she was literally my everything.
By week 2, she needed blood on a daily basis. She couldn't eat or drink. She couldn't relieve herself. She couldn't move. She couldn't speak clearly to explain her needs or wants. Her breathing was shallow. Her vitals were not normal. They would go down and then jump extremely high. She was so out of it, that they had to come to me concerning everything. Her oxygen was dropping significantly and they had to keep changing out the masks and oxygen levels to help her breathe. They kept changing her meds and she had multiple complications from that. They couldn't find any good spots on her arms to put her IVs anymore, and her legs were so swollen that they couldn't locate a useable spot anywhere. They put it on her right side of the neck. During all this she had multiple medical emergencies. One example is they said that spot on her lungs wasn't pneumonia but they now suspected a small blood clot. That medicine she was given would hopefully help, the only problem was that medication was causing problems for her back surgery. A few days later we found out it was blood and it was completely filled up in her chest. She was drowning in her own blood. They couldn't do surgery right away because she would bleed out since her platelets were so low even while receiving blood transfusions. That blood was somehow going into her lungs. I was floored. Everyday I would ask about it and I was told it was getting better, nothing to worry about. In fact the doctor said that very morning it had cleared up significantly. Imagine my shock when the critical team comes rushing in that evening to do ultrasounds on her and tells me they suspect it's why her breathing was going downhill.
On Monday she was transferred to a MICU room on a different floor. This floor felt uneasy to me. There was death all around and you could see it. They said that this floor was where her main doctors were, so that she would get the best care. Now they introduce fentanyl to her med regimen. They explained it that it would help with her pain. She would be allowed so much every hour if needed.
The next day they decided to do the surgery to put a tube in her chest to drain the blood. She now had an extremely dangerous back surgery, staples running up her entire back with tubes, a huge scar under her arm from the biopsy with tubes, and now a huge tube coming out her chest. Her fingers and toes at this point were in a stage of necropsy. But they couldn't do anything about it. They would just have to fall off in time. It was devastating. My daughter was a trooper through out this whole time. She never complained or was negative. She was just scared when she understood what was going on. Honestly I've never seen so much courage in my life.
When it came to her pain meds she was only on fentanyl and Dilaudid drip. She would only receive it when she asked. That was her rule. She was scared she would overdose or become hooked on it and didn't want that monster on her back. She would be in so much pain but would just sit through it. Her vitals were better, but when the pain would become to much to bare, her heart rate would go into the 150 to 170 range. As soon as she got some meds it would go down to the teens to low twenty's.
On Thursday night she had a new nurse. He would administer pain meds even when she didn't request it. I saw him give her shot when she was sleeping. I walked in on him. I asked him if she requested it as I saw she was asleep and he said no. He stated he was trying to keep her comfortable. I asked him not to unless she asks. He didn't listen.Throughout the night as we slept, he would give her meds that she didn't even need. He gave her haldol. She only received that for two days after her back surgery. No one had given her that since. He would give her a shot of fentanyl behind it. I later found this out while talking with her doctors and from her records.
That Friday morning she started having these weird episodes, what later looked like seizures to me. Her vitals would drop and she would go into a deep stare. They blamed the meds. It was constant apologies for her being over medicated again. Even the doctor didn't understand why he gave her so much.She had 4 separate episodes before they (at my constant request) sent her to get a MRI done.
She had a blood clot in her brain. Again they said nothing to worry about. But after experiencing what we went through already, I was highly concerned. As I should have been. They kept apologizing and said they would change her medication up again. I told them it wasn't the medicine it was the nurse. I couldn't understand why he would give her two doses of haldol when she didn't need it. The nurse said my daughter was anxious and thought it would help. My daughter was sleeping so how could she have been anxious. I went off. Something in my spirit was telling me to get her out of there. But how could I when she was hooked up to all these tubes. She was suffering and I couldn't help her. The only thing I could do was use my voice to try and protect her and be her advocate. The next day Jan. 20th, I woke up after a couple hours of sleep, and I knew something was wrong. She was awake and trying to talk. Her vitals were back at a steady 170 with high blood pressure and a low oxygen number so I knew she was in pain. I could feel it in every bone of my body something was different that day. I felt my baby didn't have long as I thought cancer was winning. I called all of our family to come see her. I can't explain it. At one point I pulled one of her doctors out of her room and begged him to tell me what was happening. Shoot it to me straight. He kept saying she's always been critical but she would pull through. He had so much hope.
They gave her some meds to help bring her vitals down and it started to work again. Her vitals started going from 160 to 150. At this point she was having a brain scan done in her room to see what the episodes were exactly. She was awake but could no longer move from her neck down. Which had just started the 2 days before. She had a blood infection and they had to move the pic line from the right side of her neck to the left side but we're unsuccessful because she had obstructions there (2 huge tumors) They had to put the new line back on the right side in the back of the neck. I don't know what happened since I wasn't allowed in the room. I do know my daughter said after they finished, she wasn't able to feel anything but her face. She never turned her head again.
During that day she kept having flem and spit from the congestion she had due to the chest infection and surgery. I would sit there and suck it out for her. No problem, I had been doing it for days with no complaints on my end. The doctors were coming in and out constantly all day to check her brain test and at one point the doctor seeing me and my nephew take shifts suctioning her out said he wanted to try a new medicine she had never received. My daughters nurse interrupted him and said that she didn't think that it was a good idea. They went back and forth for a few minutes and I stepped in and said, it was fine, I would sit there and suction out forever if I had to. Something felt different in this exchange as well. In all of 24 days of being in the hospital, I never saw a nurse challenge a doctor. I immediately went to the computer, where the nurse had typed in the order for this drug, and googled it. The first thing that popped up, was not to give this drug to someone with high blood pressure or high heart rate. It causes a person's heart rate to shoot up high quickly. It was too late. They already administered it to her. Since her heart rate was already high it caused her to go into cardiac arrest. I just stood there in shock screaming is she in cardiac arrest? To which the doctor finally responded "I'm sorry, yes"
They ushered me and my nephew out of the room so they could work on her. After about 30 minutes they called my phone and told me she flatlined but they got her heart beating again. I went flying back in that room screaming at them. I refused to leave the room. She was now on life support, but there was no hope for her to ever wake up again. After consulting with my family and her doctors, and looking at where her vitals were, I decided to pull the plug. She passed within seconds. I feel like the doctor should have listened to the nurse, but his ego would not allow him to. I feel like he's somehow responsible, but at the same time I saw what was happening to her on a daily basis and what cancer was doing to her body. I also witnessed a lot of negligence too on their part. I've been going back and forth since January 20th, about contacting an attorney and seeing if I have a case. I requested an autopsy to be performed, because I wanted to know what all was wrong with her. They informed me they normally don't do that because of the cancer. I argued with them and said I wanted one anyway. I wanted to know what happened. I was trying to understand this whole situation. 25 days prior it was just supposed to be a pinched nerve, but it wasn't. They explained I would have to pay for the autopsy, and I was okay with that. The next day after she passed away, I received the phone call to give my permission for an autopsy. They said it would take a couple days and would let me know when it was finished so the funeral home could pick up her body.
I've been calling for months about the autopsy report with no luck. Here we are in May, I go to the hospital to get the autopsy results and it's all of five pages. It's not even an autopsy report. It doesn't even state her cause of death. It's just bullshit paperwork. All it mentions is the necropsy to her fingers and toes and her basic info like height and weight. I'm so angry right now. I have her medical records, and I noticed on the 19th of January they finally put she was allergic to Ativan. There's a lot wrong with this situation. I even asked for a CD of all her images, from pathology. What I received only two images come up. Everything else is blocked from opening. I know my daughter took multiple MRIs, ultrasounds,and CAT scans in those three and a half weeks. There's no way it's only two images.
I counted all the times the nurse gave my daughter pain meds that Thursday night and it was double what any other nurse had given her at any other time plus with other drugs she didn't need at that time. I found out that haldol and fentanyl is something they give to patients that's in end of life care. Which I was constantly told my daughter was not. Her death certificate states she passed from lymphoma related cardiac arrest. I'm just so confused on what to do. I feel like I'm letting my daughter down if I don't look into this further.
I'm sorry this a novel. I couldn't just ask a simple question with out the back story for you to understand. It was so much more believe me, this was the short version!
Do I have a case or should I just move on and accept my daughter died from cancer related complications? Thank you....
2024.05.18 21:11 MermazeAblaze Exposé of Principal Dr Misti Tope
Introduction
Dr. Misti Tope, principal of Classen School of Advanced Studies at Northeast High School in Oklahoma City, has been the subject of growing controversy. Allegations of fostering an environment of fear and hostility, coupled with acts of racism, homophobia, transphobia, antisemitism, and misogyny, have surfaced from students, parents, and faculty. This exposé delves into the troubling realities under her administration, providing a detailed account of her impact on the school community and the systemic issues at play.
A Climate of Fear and Hostility
Since Dr. Tope assumed her role, there has been a marked increase in complaints from all corners of the school community. Parents have resorted to organizing private meetups to discuss their grievances, underscoring the pervasive fear and dissatisfaction. Students, feeling unheard and marginalized, have taken to creating petitions such as the "Say Nope to Tope" campaign, highlighting their desire for change.
Aligning with Controversial Views
Dr. Tope's public statements indicate her intent to align the school's educational environment with the views of Ryan Walters, the Oklahoma Secretary of Education known for his conservative and often controversial stance on various social issues. This alignment has raised alarms among many, especially as Walters' views are seen as divisive and not conducive to an inclusive educational setting.
Discrimination and Intimidation
Firing of Teachers
One of the most troubling aspects of Dr. Tope’s tenure is her treatment of teachers of color and LGBTQ+ faculty. She has systematically fired or forced out several teachers of color under dubious circumstances. Notably, Mx. Mustain, a trans teacher nearing tenure, was dismissed without just cause. These actions suggest a deliberate effort to purge the school of diversity and suppress any dissenting voices within the faculty.
Threats Against Female Students
Dr. Tope has also exhibited a disturbing pattern of intimidating female students who report predatory behavior by faculty members. Furthermore, she disbanded an after-school club formed to offer support to students over a broad range of topics, including predatory behavior - threatening to disband any group that seeks to protect itself from predatory teachers. One student reported receiving a threatening call from a private number, during which Dr. Tope did not identify herself but implied severe consequences if the student continued their advocacy. Dr. Tope later admitted to making this call when confronted and it was allegedly condoned by the Oklahoma City Public School District administration per Dr. Tope.
Inappropriate Physical Conduct
Dr. Tope’s misconduct extends to physical interactions with students. She has been accused of groping students during dress code checks, making derogatory comments about their bodies regardless of any actual dress code violations. Her actions have been described as not only invasive but also profoundly inappropriate, contributing to a culture of discomfort and fear among female students.
Racism and Antisemitism
Targeting Black Students
Dr. Tope's administration has been particularly hostile towards black students. She has attempted to disband the Black Student Union (BSU) multiple times and has made openly racist remarks. She has referred to black students as "rats and roaches" and suggested that they are incapable of learning, likening them to goldfish with limited memory. These comments have exacerbated racial tensions and marginalized black students, making them feel unwelcome and undervalued in their own school.
Holocaust Denial
Dr. Tope’s antisemitic views are equally alarming. She is an active Holocaust denier and has disrupted educational programs about the Holocaust. A notable incident involved her removing the son of a Holocaust survivor from the stage during a presentation. By shutting down these important conversations, Dr. Tope undermines educational efforts to teach tolerance and historical accuracy.
Behavior of Dr. Tope’s Son
Dr. Tope’s son, also a student at the school, has contributed to the hostile environment. He is known for carving swastikas and other Nazi imagery around the school and making antisemitic, homophobic, transphobic, and racist remarks. Despite this behavior, Dr. Tope dismisses it, blaming it falsely on influences from anime, and allows her son to skip classes and roam the school freely.
Transphobia and Misogyny Discriminatory Policies
Transgender students have faced severe discrimination under Dr. Tope’s leadership. She has enforced policies that force transgender students to use restrooms corresponding to their biological gender and dress according to their biological gender. Additionally, she has relocated the gender-neutral restroom several times to make it less accessible, further marginalizing these students.
Double Standards
The treatment of male and female students reveals a disturbing double standard. Male students who have exposed themselves to female students have received minimal punishment, such as detention, while female students reporting these incidents are dismissed as "overemotional" and "dramatic." This disparity not only perpetuates a culture of misogyny but also discourages female students from coming forward with legitimate concerns.
Investigation and Student Perception
Before the publication of this exposé, the Oklahoma City Public Schools (OKCPS) conducted a comprehensive investigation into Dr. Tope's leadership at Classen School of Advanced Studies. This investigation included an anonymous parent survey aimed at assessing Dr. Tope's effectiveness and the level of trust she commands within the school community. Despite Dr. Tope's public efforts to cultivate a friendly rapport with black students (mere hours before the survey was made public), her actions were met with skepticism and rejection by the student body.
Statistical Context
To understand the broader implications of Dr. Tope's actions, it is essential to consider national and state statistics on the issues at hand. According to the 2021 Youth Risk Behavior Survey by the CDC, 36.3% of LGBTQ+ students reported being bullied on school property, and 18.4% experienced physical dating violence. The ADL reported a 34% increase in antisemitic incidents in schools across the U.S. from 2018 to 2021. In Oklahoma, these issues are equally pressing, with numerous reports of discriminatory incidents in schools across the state, highlighting the urgent need for inclusive and supportive educational environments.
Impact of Discrimination on Academic Performance and Mental Health
Extensive research underscores the profound impact of discrimination on academic performance and mental health among high school students. Studies published by the American Psychological Association reveal that experiences of homophobia, transphobia, misogyny, racism, and antisemitism significantly impede academic achievement among adolescents in grades 9 through 12. Moreover, these discriminatory experiences are strongly associated with increased levels of stress, anxiety, depression, and suicidal ideation among affected youth.
For instance, a study published in the Journal of Adolescent Health found that LGBTQ+ students who experienced high levels of victimization based on their sexual orientation or gender identity were more likely to report lower grades and higher rates of absenteeism compared to their heterosexual and cisgender peers. Similarly, research conducted by the National Association of School Psychologists indicates that exposure to racial discrimination contributes to elevated levels of psychological distress and impaired academic functioning among students of color.
Inclusivity Across Demographics
It is imperative to acknowledge the intersectionality of discrimination and its differential impacts across various demographic groups. According to data from the U.S. Department of Education's Civil Rights Data Collection, students from marginalized racial and ethnic backgrounds, including Asians, Hispanics, Blacks, and Native Americans, often face disparities in educational opportunities and outcomes due to systemic inequities. Additionally, transgender and LGBTQIA+ students frequently encounter hostile school environments characterized by harassment, bullying, and exclusion, which detrimentally affect their academic engagement and well-being.
Research in the field of developmental psychology emphasizes the importance of creating inclusive and affirming school climates that validate students' diverse identities and lived experiences. Positive school environments that foster a sense of belonging and acceptance have been shown to promote academic success, psychological resilience, and social-emotional well-being among students from marginalized groups. By prioritizing equity, diversity, and inclusion initiatives, educational institutions can cultivate a culture of mutual respect and support that benefits all members of the school community.
Support Resources
In light of the mental health challenges exacerbated by discrimination and prejudice, it is crucial to provide accessible resources and interventions to support students in distress. School-based mental health services, such as counseling, therapy, and peer support groups, play a vital role in addressing the emotional needs of students experiencing discrimination-related stressors. Additionally, community-based organizations and advocacy groups offer valuable resources, helplines, and crisis intervention services tailored to the specific needs of LGBTQ+ youth, racial/ethnic minority students, and other marginalized populations.
Empowering students to advocate for systemic change and social justice within their schools can also promote resilience and collective empowerment. Educational initiatives that promote diversity education, cultural competence, and inclusive curriculum development contribute to creating equitable learning environments that affirm students' identities and promote social equity.
By integrating evidence-based practices, trauma-informed approaches, and culturally responsive strategies into school-based interventions, educators and mental health professionals can address the multifaceted needs of students affected by discrimination and promote positive youth development outcomes. Through collaborative efforts and sustained commitment to equity and social justice, educational stakeholders can work together to dismantle systemic barriers and create inclusive communities where all students can thrive academically, emotionally, and socially.
Student and Parent Mobilization
The dissatisfaction with Dr. Tope's administration has reached a critical point. Students recently cornered Dr. Tope in her office, an act indicative of their desperation and frustration. A planned walkout threatened to escalate into violence, with rumors of a possible attack on Dr. Tope’s son. Parents and students are organizing and mobilizing independently, indicating a breakdown of trust in the school’s administration.
Administrative and Legal Failures
The response from school resource officers and local police has been inconsistent and troubling. When contacted, the OKCPD and OKCPS Resource Officers provided conflicting accounts of the incidents, revealing a lack of proper communication and coordination. The mishandling of serious allegations internally by the school administration points to deeper systemic issues and raises questions about accountability and transparency.
Conclusion
Dr. Misti Tope’s leadership has led to a toxic environment at Classen School of Advanced Studies. Her discriminatory practices and intimidation tactics have harmed students and faculty, creating an atmosphere of fear and hostility. As parents and students mobilize for change, it is clear that Dr. Tope’s tenure is untenable. For the future of Classen and the well-being of its community, it is imperative that these issues are addressed and resolved promptly. The school needs a leader who fosters inclusivity, respect, and safety for all its members.
For those who may be struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts as a result of discrimination or other challenges, it's important to seek support. The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline provides free and confidential support 24/7. If you or someone you know is in crisis, please call 1-800-273-TALK (8255) or visit their website for more information and resources.
submitted by MermazeAblaze to InfernalBurner [link] [comments]
Dr. Misti Tope, principal of Classen School of Advanced Studies at Northeast High School in Oklahoma City, has been the subject of growing controversy. Allegations of fostering an environment of fear and hostility, coupled with acts of racism, homophobia, transphobia, antisemitism, and misogyny, have surfaced from students, parents, and faculty. This exposé delves into the troubling realities under her administration, providing a detailed account of her impact on the school community and the systemic issues at play.
A Climate of Fear and Hostility
Since Dr. Tope assumed her role, there has been a marked increase in complaints from all corners of the school community. Parents have resorted to organizing private meetups to discuss their grievances, underscoring the pervasive fear and dissatisfaction. Students, feeling unheard and marginalized, have taken to creating petitions such as the "Say Nope to Tope" campaign, highlighting their desire for change.
Aligning with Controversial Views
Dr. Tope's public statements indicate her intent to align the school's educational environment with the views of Ryan Walters, the Oklahoma Secretary of Education known for his conservative and often controversial stance on various social issues. This alignment has raised alarms among many, especially as Walters' views are seen as divisive and not conducive to an inclusive educational setting.
Discrimination and Intimidation
Firing of Teachers
One of the most troubling aspects of Dr. Tope’s tenure is her treatment of teachers of color and LGBTQ+ faculty. She has systematically fired or forced out several teachers of color under dubious circumstances. Notably, Mx. Mustain, a trans teacher nearing tenure, was dismissed without just cause. These actions suggest a deliberate effort to purge the school of diversity and suppress any dissenting voices within the faculty.
Threats Against Female Students
Dr. Tope has also exhibited a disturbing pattern of intimidating female students who report predatory behavior by faculty members. Furthermore, she disbanded an after-school club formed to offer support to students over a broad range of topics, including predatory behavior - threatening to disband any group that seeks to protect itself from predatory teachers. One student reported receiving a threatening call from a private number, during which Dr. Tope did not identify herself but implied severe consequences if the student continued their advocacy. Dr. Tope later admitted to making this call when confronted and it was allegedly condoned by the Oklahoma City Public School District administration per Dr. Tope.
Inappropriate Physical Conduct
Dr. Tope’s misconduct extends to physical interactions with students. She has been accused of groping students during dress code checks, making derogatory comments about their bodies regardless of any actual dress code violations. Her actions have been described as not only invasive but also profoundly inappropriate, contributing to a culture of discomfort and fear among female students.
Racism and Antisemitism
Targeting Black Students
Dr. Tope's administration has been particularly hostile towards black students. She has attempted to disband the Black Student Union (BSU) multiple times and has made openly racist remarks. She has referred to black students as "rats and roaches" and suggested that they are incapable of learning, likening them to goldfish with limited memory. These comments have exacerbated racial tensions and marginalized black students, making them feel unwelcome and undervalued in their own school.
Holocaust Denial
Dr. Tope’s antisemitic views are equally alarming. She is an active Holocaust denier and has disrupted educational programs about the Holocaust. A notable incident involved her removing the son of a Holocaust survivor from the stage during a presentation. By shutting down these important conversations, Dr. Tope undermines educational efforts to teach tolerance and historical accuracy.
Behavior of Dr. Tope’s Son
Dr. Tope’s son, also a student at the school, has contributed to the hostile environment. He is known for carving swastikas and other Nazi imagery around the school and making antisemitic, homophobic, transphobic, and racist remarks. Despite this behavior, Dr. Tope dismisses it, blaming it falsely on influences from anime, and allows her son to skip classes and roam the school freely.
Transphobia and Misogyny Discriminatory Policies
Transgender students have faced severe discrimination under Dr. Tope’s leadership. She has enforced policies that force transgender students to use restrooms corresponding to their biological gender and dress according to their biological gender. Additionally, she has relocated the gender-neutral restroom several times to make it less accessible, further marginalizing these students.
Double Standards
The treatment of male and female students reveals a disturbing double standard. Male students who have exposed themselves to female students have received minimal punishment, such as detention, while female students reporting these incidents are dismissed as "overemotional" and "dramatic." This disparity not only perpetuates a culture of misogyny but also discourages female students from coming forward with legitimate concerns.
Investigation and Student Perception
Before the publication of this exposé, the Oklahoma City Public Schools (OKCPS) conducted a comprehensive investigation into Dr. Tope's leadership at Classen School of Advanced Studies. This investigation included an anonymous parent survey aimed at assessing Dr. Tope's effectiveness and the level of trust she commands within the school community. Despite Dr. Tope's public efforts to cultivate a friendly rapport with black students (mere hours before the survey was made public), her actions were met with skepticism and rejection by the student body.
Statistical Context
To understand the broader implications of Dr. Tope's actions, it is essential to consider national and state statistics on the issues at hand. According to the 2021 Youth Risk Behavior Survey by the CDC, 36.3% of LGBTQ+ students reported being bullied on school property, and 18.4% experienced physical dating violence. The ADL reported a 34% increase in antisemitic incidents in schools across the U.S. from 2018 to 2021. In Oklahoma, these issues are equally pressing, with numerous reports of discriminatory incidents in schools across the state, highlighting the urgent need for inclusive and supportive educational environments.
Impact of Discrimination on Academic Performance and Mental Health
Extensive research underscores the profound impact of discrimination on academic performance and mental health among high school students. Studies published by the American Psychological Association reveal that experiences of homophobia, transphobia, misogyny, racism, and antisemitism significantly impede academic achievement among adolescents in grades 9 through 12. Moreover, these discriminatory experiences are strongly associated with increased levels of stress, anxiety, depression, and suicidal ideation among affected youth.
For instance, a study published in the Journal of Adolescent Health found that LGBTQ+ students who experienced high levels of victimization based on their sexual orientation or gender identity were more likely to report lower grades and higher rates of absenteeism compared to their heterosexual and cisgender peers. Similarly, research conducted by the National Association of School Psychologists indicates that exposure to racial discrimination contributes to elevated levels of psychological distress and impaired academic functioning among students of color.
Inclusivity Across Demographics
It is imperative to acknowledge the intersectionality of discrimination and its differential impacts across various demographic groups. According to data from the U.S. Department of Education's Civil Rights Data Collection, students from marginalized racial and ethnic backgrounds, including Asians, Hispanics, Blacks, and Native Americans, often face disparities in educational opportunities and outcomes due to systemic inequities. Additionally, transgender and LGBTQIA+ students frequently encounter hostile school environments characterized by harassment, bullying, and exclusion, which detrimentally affect their academic engagement and well-being.
Research in the field of developmental psychology emphasizes the importance of creating inclusive and affirming school climates that validate students' diverse identities and lived experiences. Positive school environments that foster a sense of belonging and acceptance have been shown to promote academic success, psychological resilience, and social-emotional well-being among students from marginalized groups. By prioritizing equity, diversity, and inclusion initiatives, educational institutions can cultivate a culture of mutual respect and support that benefits all members of the school community.
Support Resources
In light of the mental health challenges exacerbated by discrimination and prejudice, it is crucial to provide accessible resources and interventions to support students in distress. School-based mental health services, such as counseling, therapy, and peer support groups, play a vital role in addressing the emotional needs of students experiencing discrimination-related stressors. Additionally, community-based organizations and advocacy groups offer valuable resources, helplines, and crisis intervention services tailored to the specific needs of LGBTQ+ youth, racial/ethnic minority students, and other marginalized populations.
Empowering students to advocate for systemic change and social justice within their schools can also promote resilience and collective empowerment. Educational initiatives that promote diversity education, cultural competence, and inclusive curriculum development contribute to creating equitable learning environments that affirm students' identities and promote social equity.
By integrating evidence-based practices, trauma-informed approaches, and culturally responsive strategies into school-based interventions, educators and mental health professionals can address the multifaceted needs of students affected by discrimination and promote positive youth development outcomes. Through collaborative efforts and sustained commitment to equity and social justice, educational stakeholders can work together to dismantle systemic barriers and create inclusive communities where all students can thrive academically, emotionally, and socially.
Student and Parent Mobilization
The dissatisfaction with Dr. Tope's administration has reached a critical point. Students recently cornered Dr. Tope in her office, an act indicative of their desperation and frustration. A planned walkout threatened to escalate into violence, with rumors of a possible attack on Dr. Tope’s son. Parents and students are organizing and mobilizing independently, indicating a breakdown of trust in the school’s administration.
Administrative and Legal Failures
The response from school resource officers and local police has been inconsistent and troubling. When contacted, the OKCPD and OKCPS Resource Officers provided conflicting accounts of the incidents, revealing a lack of proper communication and coordination. The mishandling of serious allegations internally by the school administration points to deeper systemic issues and raises questions about accountability and transparency.
Conclusion
Dr. Misti Tope’s leadership has led to a toxic environment at Classen School of Advanced Studies. Her discriminatory practices and intimidation tactics have harmed students and faculty, creating an atmosphere of fear and hostility. As parents and students mobilize for change, it is clear that Dr. Tope’s tenure is untenable. For the future of Classen and the well-being of its community, it is imperative that these issues are addressed and resolved promptly. The school needs a leader who fosters inclusivity, respect, and safety for all its members.
For those who may be struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts as a result of discrimination or other challenges, it's important to seek support. The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline provides free and confidential support 24/7. If you or someone you know is in crisis, please call 1-800-273-TALK (8255) or visit their website for more information and resources.
2024.05.18 20:02 newon_here Botched embalming. I’m so angry can my family sue?
My aunt died on the 25th of April. She had type 1 diabetes that she was very careful and strict about. Her doctor put her on a new device implant and it would glitch and not alert her when her sugar was low. She begged him to change it back to her old one multiple times but the doctor refused. it was too late a couple weeks later when her sugar got dangerously low and she unfortunately died in her sleep at a young age…. (I wanna add she was found very quickly after she died. Me and my mother talked to her on the phone about 8-10 hours before she was found at 6:30 am in her bed by her daughter) Yes my family is very angry and suing the hell out of that doctor. But another tragedy happened to my poor aunt.
My family lives in California but temporarily for work my aunt lived in the south. She died in the south. Every place where she lived refused to do an autopsy so she had to be sent to California for it. The funeral got pushed back twice because “something went wrong with the autopsy and embalming schedule” I don’t know what the HELL happened in the embalming or autopsy process but when we viewed her body days before the funeral she was UNRECOGNIZABLE!! plastic looking weird looking I couldn’t fucking believe it. They said they would put makeup on her. I saw her on the day of her funeral (YESTERDAY) I almost screamed she looked halfway decayed! I’ve been to funerals and seen bodies they don’t look THAT different maybe a little stiff and caked makeup. Her features were different she looked bloated 100 lbs heavier. I couldn’t even look at her for a long time. The expression on her face looked shocked ?!? Uncanny valley. usually the expression on bodies looks neutral like they’re resting!! :( She was so beautiful before she died and I don’t mean this in a vain way. If she saw herself this way she wouldn’t believe it was her. I’m angry my family had to see her that way. She did not look like that when she was found sleeping….
Is there ANYTHING my family can do legally. Something was sloppy on their end that’s why they kept pushing it back and they tried to hide it from us. I can’t sleep thinking about how she looked. I feel so horrible for her. Negligence from her doctors took her life and now even in death she got screwed over by negligence. She was too much of a sweet caring woman for this treatment. God rest her soul
submitted by newon_here to askfuneraldirectors [link] [comments]
My family lives in California but temporarily for work my aunt lived in the south. She died in the south. Every place where she lived refused to do an autopsy so she had to be sent to California for it. The funeral got pushed back twice because “something went wrong with the autopsy and embalming schedule” I don’t know what the HELL happened in the embalming or autopsy process but when we viewed her body days before the funeral she was UNRECOGNIZABLE!! plastic looking weird looking I couldn’t fucking believe it. They said they would put makeup on her. I saw her on the day of her funeral (YESTERDAY) I almost screamed she looked halfway decayed! I’ve been to funerals and seen bodies they don’t look THAT different maybe a little stiff and caked makeup. Her features were different she looked bloated 100 lbs heavier. I couldn’t even look at her for a long time. The expression on her face looked shocked ?!? Uncanny valley. usually the expression on bodies looks neutral like they’re resting!! :( She was so beautiful before she died and I don’t mean this in a vain way. If she saw herself this way she wouldn’t believe it was her. I’m angry my family had to see her that way. She did not look like that when she was found sleeping….
Is there ANYTHING my family can do legally. Something was sloppy on their end that’s why they kept pushing it back and they tried to hide it from us. I can’t sleep thinking about how she looked. I feel so horrible for her. Negligence from her doctors took her life and now even in death she got screwed over by negligence. She was too much of a sweet caring woman for this treatment. God rest her soul
2024.05.18 19:48 healthmedicinet Health Daily News May 17 2024
DAY: MAY 17, 2024
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- 5-17-2024STUDY FINDS ANTIOXIDANT DIETARY SUPPLEMENT MAY HELP COUNTER SYSTEMIC SCLEROSIS Oxidative stress is known to exacerbate fibrosis and autoimmunity. In a new study, researchers from Japan have investigated the effects of a dietary antioxidant supplement—Twendee X—on oxidative stress and fibrosis in a mouse model of SSc, an intractable autoimmune disease. Given its effectiveness in other oxidative stress-related diseases including dementia, Twendee X holds the promise of being an effective antioxidant therapeutic against SSc.
- 5-17-2024AUTISTIC PEOPLE’S FEELINGS MOSTLY MISREAD—EMPATHY WORKS BOTH WAYS, RESEARCH REVEALS The idea that autistic people lack empathy is simply short-sighted and non-autistic people may find it just as hard to put themselves in someone else’s shoes, a study suggests. A paper in the journal Autism flips the script on the often-said stereotype that autistic people have difficulty imagining how others feel. Participants shown video clips featuring autistic and non-autistic people retelling emotional events revealed people without autism find it significantly harder to track autistic people’s emotions. It also revealed people felt emotions more intensely in the body
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- 5-17-2024A LONG-TERM KETOGENIC DIET ACCUMULATES AGED CELLS IN NORMAL TISSUES, NEW STUDY SHOWS A strict “keto-friendly” diet popular for weight loss and diabetes, depending on both the diet and individual, might not be all that friendly. A new study led by researchers at The University of Texas Health Science Center at San Antonio (UT Health San Antonio) found that a continuous long-term ketogenic diet may induce senescence, or aged, cells in normal tissues, with effects on heart and kidney function in particular.
- 5-17-2024US TEEN DIED AFTER DOING SPICY CHIP CHALLENGE: AUTOPSY A US teenager died of cardiac arrest after taking part in a social media challenge daring people to eat a single extremely hot tortilla chip, an autopsy revealed Thursday. Harris Wolobah, a 14-year-old from Massachusetts, died in September after taking part in the so-called “One Chip Challenge”—which involved a single chip produced by Paqui, dusted with Carolina Reaper and Naga Viper peppers. The dare has manifested in several iterations over the years, with the peppers changing each time. The local chief medical examiner determined that Harris died of cardiac arrest
- 5-17-2024IS YOUR CHILD READY FOR SUMMER SLEEPAWAY CAMP? Sleepaway camp can be a lot of fun for kids, but only if they’re ready for the experience. And that’s the tough part—figuring out as a parent when a child is ready to stay away from home, and what they’ll need while they’re at camp, said Dr. Laurel Williams, a professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Baylor College of Medicine in Houston. A child who can stay one night away from their family might be ready for camp
- 5-17-2024FDA APPROVES NEW DRUG FOR DEADLY LUNG CANCER
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- 5-17-2024KEY PROTEIN BEHIND BRAIN ASYMMETRY UNCOVERED BY SCIENTISTS
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- 5-17-2024GUT BACTERIA ENHANCE CANCER IMMUNOTHERAPY IN MOUSE STUDY
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- 5-17-2024WEB-BASED SELF-HELP INTERVENTION FOUND TO BE BENEFICIAL FOR BINGE EATING DISORDER
- 5-17-2024MARYLAND GOV. WES MOORE SIGNS BILL REQUIRING MENTAL HEALTH TRAINING FOR PUBLIC HIGH SCHOOL, COLLEGE COACHES
- 5-17-2024NEW TECHNIQUE TO FREEZE BRAIN TISSUE WITHOUT HARM
- 5-17-2024STUDY UNCOVERS KEY FACTORS FOR RESILIENCE AFTER TRAUMA
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- 5-17-2024HOW THE DANGEROUS LIVER DISEASE SPREADS AND HOW IT CAN BE TREATED
- 5-17-2024NEW DATA OUTLINE POSITIVE EFFECTS OF ENDURANCE EXERCISE TRAINING
- 5-17-2024CHRONIC PAIN SUPPORT FROM SPOUSE MAY DECREASE WELL-BEING FOR SOME PEOPLE
- 5-17-2024WHEN DEPRESSION MEDS DON’T WORK, THIS MAY HELP YOU TURN THE CORNER
- 5-17-2024CAN OXYTOCIN HELP AGAINST LONELINESS? FINDINGS FROM A RANDOMIZED CONTROLLED TRIAL
- 5-17-2024STUDY FINDS ANTIOXIDANT DIETARY SUPPLEMENT MAY HELP COUNTER SYSTEMIC SCLEROSIS
- 5-17-2024AUTISTIC PEOPLE’S FEELINGS MOSTLY MISREAD—EMPATHY WORKS BOTH WAYS, RESEARCH REVEALS
- 5-17-2024STUDY SUGGESTS THAT AIR POLLUTION PROMOTES INFLAMMATION IN THE BRAIN, ACCELERATING CONSEQUENCES FOR DEMENTIA
- 5-17-2024STUDY SHOWS AEROBIC EXERCISE PERFORMED IN THE EVENING BENEFITS ELDERLY HYPERTENSIVES MORE THAN MORNING EXERCISE
- 5-17-2024A LONG-TERM KETOGENIC DIET ACCUMULATES AGED CELLS IN NORMAL TISSUES, NEW STUDY SHOWS
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2024.05.18 19:13 CatherineL1031 The Beginning of my Descent [Lorepost Part 3]
![The Beginning of my Descent [Lorepost Part 3]](https://preview.redd.it/8c06qddww71d1.png?width=640&crop=smart&auto=webp&s=6bbe7ddd2b8b39cfcd833a7fb4252a0169ab6677 "The Beginning of my Descent [Lorepost Part 3]") | Hello again everyone, I’ve decided to put the baking tips here this time. This is one that has been a huge help for me when it comes to cutting cakes. It’s much easier and cleaner to cut a cake when it’s been chilled for a few hours. So, once your cake has baked and firmed up in the pan (about 15-20 minutes, you want to make sure it’s set but still slightly malleable), take it out, let it come to room temperature, and then cover with foil or plastic or something to prevent it from drying in the fridge. Let it cook for a few hours to finish solidifying, and then cut. Also, if you have the means, a sheet cake cooks and cools a lot faster and more evenly and a cutter can be used to make perfect even circles. submitted by CatherineL1031 to wizardposting [link] [comments] Now, it’s a bit strange to start with the baking tips, I know. But, those are saved as a reward for making your way through my ramblings about youth and glory and adventures. This time, I wanted to put it here as a sort of apology for what’s to come. The last two stories have been very positive, very upbeat, very fun. However, the next century of my life I’m about to share with you all… I wouldn’t blame any of you if you looked at me differently, I’ll just say that. I’ll stop beating around the bush, and get right to the point. So, my immortality was secure, I’d have my perfect body for as long as time existed or until I was killed by a stronger, more capable opponent. I had a good group of friends who knew they could depend on me whenever they needed help with something, and I got to kick the ass of a lich! I had accomplished so much in just over 100 years of life, and now I had a supposedly infinite amount of it to spare if I played my cards right! I felt unstoppable, and wanted to help others like I had helped my companions. I became a mercenary, a witch for hire for adventures that might be too dangerous for parties. I stopped lying about my strengths, making sure it was known I held Master rank in two magic fields. Most people do not like to play the role of support, and it’s never a bad idea to have extra healing, so I started to hone my craft in Healing and Protection magic as well. I was a force to be reckoned with, and I would make sure the world knew it! I had wished to continue adventuring with my previous companions, but each of them had decided to take their own path in life. Har decided to take a more involved approach with his church, Ralin returned home to overtake her brother as chief of her clan, and Vex was heading back to the mountains to further hone her building expertise and learn to become an artificer for enchanting! It was sad parting ways, we had been together for such a short time but we had accomplished something so impressive! Oh well, that’s life, you know? I made them promise to keep in touch, and we did for the most part! Har became a bit hard to reach at times due to moving around, so it was always a treat to see him when I could. Anyways, I soon began to gain some fame. I was a topic of conversation now who had been promoted to expert in the matter of a month after I helped some newbies on their quests. I was someone who everyone knew was dependable and talented. Best of all, I was a cutie, and everyone loves to have a cute witch on their team! I had all but abandoned my previous life’s calling in favor of glory seeking, which is something I still look back on with regret. I was becoming more selfish, more focused on building myself up instead of using my powers for the good of those who might not be able to ever have access to these powers. The Phoenix Rebirth had become a popular spell among us in the community, though, so people were still getting help. I had published it free to all magic shops, all magical teachers, even sent the entire process and methods for casting it through the OrbNet before I left to go on my mission to fight the lich. I just wanted to be sure it was in the world, pending the potential worst. It was at a huge loss, but it has now become the platform by which a lot of Gender spells are cast, so it was all worth it. My time as an adventurer was amazing, I met so many cool people, fought so many horrifying and awesome beasts, even got to kiss a dragon! They don’t have lips, so it’s not the best kiss, but it’s still something worth bragging about. I felt so good helping people in a different way, and I was becoming more and more popular through the years. I was now Catherine, Lady of Flames, Master of Forms, a stable in the adventuring party call list. It felt amazing. The excitement lasted for about 15 years of being called to help on missions, but then it was quickly soured after a single mission. Nobody mentions this, but once you become a powerful enough fighter, you start to garner the attention of those in need of protecting. This is definitely not a bad thing, especially when it is someone who is in genuine need of it, but that is not usually the case. Particularly, you garner the attention of the wealthy, who believe all problems can be solved with money. I would liken them to devils or demons, but that isn’t fair to them…devils and demons at least have codes they follow. Anyways, one such noble approached me. Well, not actually her, one of the elves she had employed in her service. Her name was Duchess Cordelia, Lady of Farlon, Heir to the Rose Throne, Daughter of Zavier Goradel and Collector of Fine Arts. Yes, she made you say each one of those every time you addressed her, and in the correct order. She was…there’s a word I don’t like to use to describe her, a word that to me is very offensive but to others means nothing. I’m sure you can guess the word of which I speak, I simply refuse to say it outloud. She was, though, and a massive one at that. She had called upon me after an omen in the sky had warned her of an invasion by some of the forces of hell. It was something we all saw, and while it was a terrifying experience, I’m not going to pretend it wasn’t the coolest and most spectacular shit I had ever seen. Whoever had cast it had placed some illusion magic to make the sun look like a flaming skull that called specifically her and her family out. I still remember what it said because it was just that cool. ‘Cordelia, Zavier, Helena…you have toyed with forces beyond your control, and for that you will be punished…My legions will march on your town, turning it and everything your pathetic hands have dared to touch into naught but a fine ash. You cannot stop me. You cannot persuade me. You cannot survive…’ and then it was over, the sun was back to normal. Fucking baller move, right? That’s how you threaten some assholes’ life! So, I was called, along with Magnus Haradel and Desdamona Torres. Magnus was another high ranking member of the guild, an older Drow chap who still remains the most talented sword wielder I’d ever seen. His white hair was always tied into a neat bun, and he dressed simply. His armor was enchanted, but looked similar to any generic armor you could buy. He held a very respectable air about him, a sense of power that told anyone he could easily defeat them, but a calming sense that assured them he would only do it if he was threatened. Mona was an alchemist who concocted and brewed the strangest potions I had ever seen. Some of them would cause an opponent to explode, some would freeze them in place, some when opened and poured onto the ground summoned these giant venus fly-trap looking creatures with razor sharp teeth that would devour whatever she commanded. She was a half-goblin, parents being a full goblin and an elf. Their genes worked together very well, because Mona herself was truly stunning. She has black hair, lime green skin, and wore a long back robe that flowed down her slender body. More impressive, however, was that she was Archmage levels in her Alchemical field, the highest one could get back in the day. It was our job to protect Cordelia and her parents, Zavier and Helena. They would not share any information with us about what they had done, how it had pissed something off, or what to expect, but they did tell us we’d be ‘handsomely compensated should you survive’. Assholes…we needed information to do our job! Holes in information leads to holes in strategy, holes in strategy leads to unnecessary risk, and unnecessary risk leads to uncertainty and potential death! Ugh, whatever, it was just one job, then hopefully we’d never have to deal with them again and they’d descend into obscurity. So, the job was set. Magnus, Mona and I got better acquainted with each other and started to plan our defensive means and offensive responses. We had no idea what we were facing, how many it would be, where it would be coming from, or when! We had one of the five answers we desperately needed, so we had to do the best we could. Magnus suggested we employ the help of additional adventurers; clerics, paladins and the like who are good at protecting and supporting. Their job would be to round up the town to a safe location and watch over them until one of us gave the all clear. Mona and I agreed, and I decided to spread the word that the people needed to be taken to safety and guarded until whatever was going to happen had happened; he did threaten the entire population, so better to be safe. Mona started to lay a protective parameter around the Goradel mansion in the form of explosive concoctions that seeped into the ground and bottles of Acid Arrow that, when broken, would attack the nearest hostile creature. She had also managed to brew a few potions of invisibility for the townsfolk, given the guards potions of strength, mana regeneration, health regeneration and spell boosting, and gave herself, myself and Magnus potions of regeneration, potions of Free Casting (basically downing one allows you just have a reserve of mana to pull from without worry), and potions of Iron Skin that would give us amazing defense without slowing us down. She was a really, really talented Alchemist, even crazier was that she was only 30, very young for a half-elf/half-goblin. She definitely had a gift. I, meanwhile, decided to try something new. I had been toying around with a few things in my off-time, and with my knowledge of Shifting Magics I decided to try out something that could prove beneficial. I had come across many beasts in my time, some of them easy to understand and study, others so wildly complicated that it took me years of dissecting, studying and charting to get a solid understanding of what the hell was going on internally. I had taken some lessons from Grandmaster and Archmage Shifter’s who were willing to teach, and with enough practice I was finally able to harness the form of other, less common creatures! I had mastered the standard offensive animal forms like tiger, wolf, bear and eagle, but didn’t know how dangerous our targets were going to be, so I decided that we needed to go hard, fast, and leave no possible room for error. I downed the two bottles of Free Casting that Mona has brewed, and began my shift. I had again mixed my Phoenix Rebirth with these form changes, so the only pain I was receiving was to my mana pools. However, thanks to Mona’s amazing abilities, I was able to shift without trouble! I got down on all fours, and soon my size began to expand. My teeth turned from their normal human color to a stained and dark brown. My face started to extend forward into a muzzle, my teeth being replaced by sharp, deadly fangs. My canines extended further than the rest, creating a deadly row of fangs. My lips retracted back, and my face began to turn scaly and red as my face became more and more canine. The only thing unchanged on my face was my eyes, as they were my Keepsake (many Shifters have a certain aspect of themselves they keep permanent, no matter what, to remind themselves of their true form). The scales continued down, a large, fleshy tail sprouting from my back and extending out. From snout to tail, I was now 30 feet in size, but I was not yet finished. The scales extended down my whole body, but they looked more like regular sinew and flesh as my body was covered in a protective coat of blood red scales. My legs began to crack and bend as muscle appeared to support my now larger weight and size, and my toes extended a double set of claws on each foot. The form was complete, now for one final touch. All across my red tail, bones began to jut out like my sharpened fangs, covering it from my hindquarters to the very tip of my tail. It was definitely an easy target should something decide to attack my tail, but the shards and spikes allowed me to slice through weaker enemies that dare to try. Even better, I could slam my tail against the ground to loosen some of the shards and fling them towards my target. I was a true beast, an imperfect dragon known as a fanged drake. While not near as strong as a true dragon, I had seen first-hand the damage and strength they possess, and now it was all mine. Magic was a bit harder to cast in this form, but I still had access to Apprentice level Pyromancy and some support spells like Enhance Speed, Feather Fall and Enhance Ability. The stage was set, we were ready to fight whatever came our way. Magnus had enchanted his greatsword with every enchantment he could cast without overloading it, Mona held potions in her hands, and I stood at the front, smoke coming from my body as I waited. We were ready, we were going to defend these poor villagers and the shitty people who barely even gave a shit about their safety! We waited, and waited, and waited. Seems I had used my change too early, and turning back would just be a waste of mana, so I decided to travel into town and help with carrying or leading others to safety. I had modified the vocal cords of this beast to be more in-line with standard humanoid ones, so it allowed me to speak. It was just not very fun, given my voice was incredibly gruff and deep due to the creature's size. I ran to the guards, my now muscular legs allowing me to jump great distances, my long claws able to help me climb with relative ease. It didn't take long to find the groups and their protectors as they were leaving town. I jumped down to check and make sure everything was okay, and even got to meet Har again! He looked so much more mature, his black hair and green eyes showing a bit of age, but it seemed he was happy. We used a few minutes of walking time to catch up, and I got to hear all about his journey. After our mission, he made it his job to find undead who had been driven mad, and help them see the light again. He had seen many undead who had been brought back against their will, and many who suffered purely because they weren't allowed a choice in their rest being disturbed. He had helped them find peace, shown them the light of Theia, his goddess, and allowed them to return to their peaceful slumber in their designated afterlife. He had even married the cute man at the bar that I had convinced him to chat up, and they had a daughter named Athena! Apparently she was 7 years old and the sweetest thing, according to Har. I told him he better let me visit her once this was all over, and he happily accepted. Our sweet reunion was cut short, however, as the clouds in the night sky started to swirl and gather. Once again we saw the decrepit and harrowing skull that we had seen yesterday appear again. Except, this time it didn't talk. It merely let out an ear-splitting screech that rattled your very soul. A few of the people were so terrified they had fainted, so I yelled at them to carry all they could, and run! Fast! They were quick to agree, those who could carry grabbing the unconscious and those from my back with haste so that I could rush back to the mansion. I arrived right in the nick of time to see absolute hell spewing from the mouth of this skull. We heard horrid shrieks and cries of birds, the hissing roars of giant snakes, and the unholy screams of Abyssal Spiders. The birds were like Corvids, but towering in height. They easily reached 30 feet in size, their beaks sharpened and rigged with teeth-like bumps running down the entirety of their beaks. Their eye sockets were sunken and shallow, small eyes giving off a haunting and piercing glow. Parts of their body showed their exposed, fleshy bodies underneath. Their skin was red, and covered with scars, exposed bone and sinew from what looked to be countless battles. The snakes were unlike anything I've ever seen, they were black and blue striped, with arms and legs, and stood upright! They were not as tall as the Corvids, only measuring 15 feet tall, but they possessed a whip-like tail that flowed almost the same length as their bodies. Their mouths oozed a green venom that coated their fangs, and their necks were able to flare into hoods like a cobra. Finally, were the spiders. Along with being giant, like the size of a Clydesdale giant, they possessed hundreds of eyes across their entire body. Their fangs dripped with venom, and thick hairs were present across their entire bodies. Each hair on their back was able to pierce skin and inject with the same poison in their fangs, and their webs were known to carry a necrotic slime that would eat away at skin. We definitely had our work cut out for us, this horde of creatures was coming right for the Goradel residence and they were ready to kill anything and everything in their path. The crows rushed through, their massive size crushing smaller houses and easily breaking through larger ones that were in their way. The spiders simply crawled over them, leaving a trail of webs and venom in their wake, and the snakes…apparently their tails were going to be quite the problem, as not only were they long, they were sharp enough to slice trees, wildlife and building cleanly with just a single slice of the tail. We were truly, without a doubt, up a fucking creek with this one. We sprang into action as quickly as we could. We saw our foes pouring out, and our objective was simple protection of the village, her people, and the asshole nobles that caused all this. I ran right towards the spiders, knowing that they were the threat that could cause the most damage with their necrotic webs and flesh-melting venom. The smoke coming from my mouth started to turn black as I approached one of them, letting out a blast of fire from my mouth that quickly set it and its attempted web in flames. It shrieked as it skittered and writhed in pain, trying to attack me in retaliation. I was quick to slice one of its legs off with my claws, and sink my teeth into the back of its head. It gave a few more twitches and finally fell still. I threw it to the side as I continued doing my best to draw them towards a common area, minimizing the potential risk of them running out of town and tracking down the other parties currently in hiding. It worked very well, as once they notice a threat, they will continue to attack! The problem was, it worked very well, and once they noticed a threat they would continue to attack until it died! The horde of spiders was gaining on me, all I could do was use some flames to burn the webs they attempted to ensnare me with and use my claws to slice any that came from the front. I was not doing well by any means, but I was now at least within sight of my companions. My joy was quickly cut short as I felt a burning string of web wraps itself around my tail. I had gotten careless, and was definitely paying the price. If you’ve never been hit by necrosis, allow me to explain the feeling as best I can. Imagine a hot knife being thrust deeper and deeper into your body and feeling your cells, muscles, tendons and fat dying around it. Not just cut, or severed, dying with little chance to repair it without some heavy magic. If it goes around a vital part, like a shoulder, leg or neck, you will start to slowly feel yourself losing all feeling as it just falls. It’s a truly horrible experience, avoid it if you can. This is to say, I was currently in for absolute hell as I felt this experience being run through the part of my tail that carries most of my projectile spikes. I could feel each tendon snapping, my skin burning away, and the discs of my now expended spine starting to crack and rip. I had to make a choice, fast. My desperation led me to only one single solution; I knew the tail had to go. With a pained howl I raised my claws, and sliced clean through the tail on my back. I cannot explain how truly horrible of an experience this was, mostly because I think my mind has blocked it out to protect itself. It fell to the ground with a wet squelch, blood pouring out of the open wounds on my back. I sent a breath of flame onto the spider and his silk, and sent another onto my nubbed tail. Again, another experience I believe my mind has blocked out to protect itself! Don’t get hit by necrosis, kids. I ran to Mona, who was currently being swarmed by a group of Corvids, and offered my assistance. I was pissed, I was angry, and I wanted to kill! As one of them dived down, I jumped onto its chest and sunk my fangs directly into its neck. It let out a pained screech as I felt its blood fill my mouth, my claws wildly slashing at its chest through skin, flesh, bone, whatever I could scrap and slice, I did. I had truly let this creature’s feral nature take over my mind for the time being, but I did not give a damn, we needed to win. The beast fell back to the ground, and I let out another challenging roar to the other beasts nearby. My claws and fangs erupted in flames as I continued to wildly attack the ones threatening Mona, knowing I needed to protect her as she concocted and threw brew after brew onto what she could. Magnus was doing absolutely amazing, without a doubt the best of us. He was handling the snakes by himself, expertly dodging and slashing at them each time they tried to grab him, bite him, slice with their tails, or trample him. He would wait for them to attack and in the blink of an eye, whatever they tried to attack him with would be gone. Heads, tails, legs and arms started to litter the ground near him as he showed absolute power and authority. Mona, meanwhile, had been mixing something special while I distracted the snakes and corvids. Her alchemical traps had mostly been activated already, melted and bubbling piles of what were some of our enemies scattered through the warzone. She yelled at me to give her a boost, and I managed to snap free from my feral state. She held something in her hands I cannot even begin to describe. It was completely dark, but…empty. The energy that came from it was unlike anything I have ever seen since, it was like staring into the nothingness of space while being surrounded by it on all sides. She slammed it onto the ground, and the darkness surrounded her. Flesh and feathers from the Corvids started to break from their destroyed and lifeless bodies, attaching itself to her back and clothes. One of their skulls burst into pieces as it flew towards her, reassembling itself onto her face in a makeshift mask. Their bones and talons began to collect into her hands, and within a matter of seconds she was holding a powerful, pulsating scythe. In that moment I saw something I truly hope to never see again. I saw death. The truest form of death was standing before me, and its energy chilled my very soul. I could feel the contempt the energy had for me, as if it knew I had extended my life outside of its natural reach. She ordered me to come, and I knew I had to obey. I grabbed her with my fangs, and placed her onto my back. Her body was cold, I was terrified of what I saw before me, but so was everything else. I felt a hand rest onto my head, and I could feel…warmth. Mona reassured me that it was going to be okay, and pointed her scythe forward. I collected myself again, and sprinted towards our enemies. Mona sliced and slashed them each with one clean swipe from that scythe, each of them falling dead in our path. I used my flames to burn any webs that had been placed, focusing on the ground while she focused on taking down these enemies with the grace and power of a god. As I saw this, I truly understood how far the gaps between Master and Archmage truly were when it came to the arcane arts. I still had so much to learn… Our combo attacks came to a screeching halt, however, as we heard a pained scream from behind us. We both looked to where Magnus was, and we could see that he had been injured. One of the snakes had managed to sink its tail through his shoulder, and another currently had its fangs embedded into his side. We let out a scream as we charged towards them as they bit, stabbed, and slashed poor Magnus. I tackled one of the snakes off, sinking my burning fangs into its neck and ripping its head off in one solid motion. Mona jumped from my back, holding her hand out as she said…something, and the snake was turned to dust. Magnus fell to the ground, howling in pain as he regained his footing. I cried out that he needed to be healed immediately, and begged Mona to throw him something from her belt. He paid me no mind, and just ran back into the fight. He was so badly injured, but that did not stop him for a second. He continued fighting as if nothing had happened, and we knew we had to do the same. The fight lasted for hours, the hordes of enemies seeming endless. The town had been turned to rubble at this point, any signs of life save for the Goradel mansion had vanished from this now tarnished and barren land. As the sun rose on the next day, we saw the warzone in fresh light. Mona had returned to normal, her breathing short and labored as she laid on the ground. I had turned back to normal, wounds covering my body and in desperate need of healing, but I didn’t care. I saw Magnus sitting on the corpse of one of the Corvids, a cup of ale in his hand and blood pouring from him. I rushed to him, begging him to let me help him, but he just shook his head. He took a long, slow sip of his ale, let out a deep sigh and motioned for me to sit with him. I got down as best I could, every instinct telling me to heal me, but he continued to refuse. Eventually he spoke as we stared at the sunset. ‘Catherine,’ he said to me, ‘everyone has a torch to burn. Some burn longer than others, and we don’t get to decide how long they burn…’ He leaned against his sword with a smile, taking one last sip of ale. I asked him what the hell he was talking about, but as I looked at him, I could tell… He was gone… The light had gone from his eyes, but that smile remained on his face. As I saw this, all I could do was cry. I had lost people before in my life, but I was always able to help the ones that could be helped from injuries! I just hugged him as I sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed. Even worse was having to heal Mona back to consciousness with the remainder of my magic and share the news with her. We cried together; we hadn’t known each other for more than a day, but we all held a deep respect for each other. Knowing that we had failed him and caused his demise, the town being destroyed, our barely achieved victory…none of it felt worth it in the end. As we cried, we heard the doors to the Goradel manor open. Out stepped Zavier, Cordelia’s father. He looked at the scene, nodding as he saw our handiwork and commended us. ‘Weren’t there three of you?’ he asked as he looked at us with such lack of regard. ‘Magnus…he’s dead…’ Mona said as I helped her up, wiping the tears from her eyes. ‘Hm, pity…very well, would you like his share? We had already set aside 3 payments, we will split it between you both should you wish’. I still don’t know why what he said caused me such anger, but I could feel my blood boil. Our comrade that had been one of the best members of the guild, the one who had fought to defend his worthless ass, the reason he was standing here right now and not a pile of meat being devoured by beasts didn’t even give a shit that he was gone! ‘This isn’t fair’, I thought to myself, ‘we protected them and they are treating us like pawns!’ Mona could tell I was getting angry, so she answered that we’d take his share and have it sent to our accounts at once. She pulled me away from this pitiful excuse for a human, and I just screamed in anger. She told me that she agreed, that it wasn’t fair to Magnus, or us, or the people of this village, but that we couldn’t let his sacrifice be in vain. With his share of the cash and ours, we could afford to build a new settlement for the displaced of this village. She managed to talk me down from my anger, she was really talented like that. I took a few deep breaths, patted my cheeks, and nodded. It would be better to use the money for good in Magnus’ honor, all the stories I had heard of his exploits usually ended with him donating a large portion of his earnings to those affected by disasters such as this. Mona left to inform the survivors that the victory had been achieved, but at the loss of Magnus. While she did that, however, I began to plan. I don’t know if it was the loss of a comrade, the pain still coursing through my body, the stress and trauma of what we had just gone through, but letting it go was not an option for me at this point. I knew I had to show these fuckers torment, I knew that they needed to pay for the callous disregard for anyone who wasn’t themselves. So, I gathered samples. I had a bag of holding on my side and began to stuff it with the bodies of our defeated enemies. The spiders had all been burned and crushed beyond study, but many of the Corvids and Serpents were still able to be studied and understood. Once I had my samples, I looked at Magnus with more tears. I was going to avenge him, I was going to show these rich pieces of crap just how insignificant they were, and I was going to make sure they paid the price… There was no way I could carry his body with my strength, he was far too bulky for me, so I used my magic to carry him. Even with my weakened state I couldn’t stop myself from giving him a proper burial. He deserved it, he deserved so much more than what he got. I summoned a shovel into my hands, and began to dig. I think I made it about 3 minutes of digging before my body finally gave up on me, and I fell. I don’t remember much of what happened after that, I guess I had passed out from exhaustion. When I awoke, I heard Har’s voice calling to me. I was so tired, my body aching and burning in such pain as I tried to move every muscle I could. I looked up, and we were in a cemetery. I could see Magnus’ body laying in a now dug grave, dressed in his elegant but simple armor, eyes closed and mouth still holding that same smile as I had seen before. A ward of protection was currently being cast around his burial grounds, designating this land as sacred ground that could not be touched by any means. No necromancer could get to his body, and no thieves could rob him of his belongings. I was sitting next to a patched up and tired looking Mona, and we both just sobbed gently as we watched him being buried. Hundreds had gathered to pay their respects, all of those that Magnus had saved, protected, worked with, allied, even some who I later came to learn saw him as a rival. All of them were paying their respects to this true paragon of an adventurer, and all I could think about was getting revenge for him… Ah, sorry, I didn’t realize how long I had been sending through the OrbNet. It might be best to end this part of my life here for the time being. Thank you again for reading, if you managed to find an old witch’s story interesting. Once I work up the courage to share the next part with you all, I hope you will continue to view me in a positive light. You will hear things that…well, you’ll see. Thank you for your time, I love you all, my siblings in the arcane. |
2024.05.18 16:57 spintale [MAY24] “Free Tests and Treatment for Bad Blood“, the institute bulletin board announced, so Elijah signed up.
For the next 21 years, as untreated syphilis slowly ravaged Elijah’s body and mind, the doctors withheld the cure, took hundreds of measurements, and eagerly awaited his autopsy.
submitted by spintale to TwoSentenceHorror [link] [comments]
2024.05.18 16:37 Low_Jellyfish_6839 Toxicology. & JP ALIBI
If the family wanted to, they could still have a toxicology report done on Micha’s remains.
Unfortunately they wouldn’t be able to do an autopsy ever. JP should be in prison or In front of the firing squad. If the FBI is unwilling to help, as they have proved, it’s time to get the US Marshall’s involvement to look into the cororner (who by the way is the ONLY PERSON with the power to remove the chief/head sheriff from his position of power), the person who cremated Mica (which btw the person who cremated Mica has already been in “trouble” for cremating another person body before investigation), the Lumberton PD, the Lumberton park rangers and FBI. The Marshals should also look into solid rocks money laundering and sexual abuse, the rev at the church, JPs dad, the fisherman, THE COUPLE & the family at the ramp the fisherman talked to & the man who owns the property near Lumberton, Robeson county, ALL OF IT. This investigation has been an absolute shit show from the very beginning.
HOW ARE THE POLICE GOING TO SIT THERE AND SAY THAT HIS TRUCK WAS CAUGHT ON A HIGHWAY CAMERA AND HES OFF THE HOOK???!!!!!
What was JPs full alibi?
Where is the camera footage of JP in the town he was allegedly in the day of Micas murder?
If he stayed at a hotel, for how long? Where’s the hotel camera footage?
Surely he had to get gas along the way or food ?!? Where are the receipts.
They went to dinner after the soccer game? Surly the place had cameras.
submitted by Low_Jellyfish_6839 to JusticeForMicaMiller [link] [comments]
Unfortunately they wouldn’t be able to do an autopsy ever. JP should be in prison or In front of the firing squad. If the FBI is unwilling to help, as they have proved, it’s time to get the US Marshall’s involvement to look into the cororner (who by the way is the ONLY PERSON with the power to remove the chief/head sheriff from his position of power), the person who cremated Mica (which btw the person who cremated Mica has already been in “trouble” for cremating another person body before investigation), the Lumberton PD, the Lumberton park rangers and FBI. The Marshals should also look into solid rocks money laundering and sexual abuse, the rev at the church, JPs dad, the fisherman, THE COUPLE & the family at the ramp the fisherman talked to & the man who owns the property near Lumberton, Robeson county, ALL OF IT. This investigation has been an absolute shit show from the very beginning.
HOW ARE THE POLICE GOING TO SIT THERE AND SAY THAT HIS TRUCK WAS CAUGHT ON A HIGHWAY CAMERA AND HES OFF THE HOOK???!!!!!
What was JPs full alibi?
Where is the camera footage of JP in the town he was allegedly in the day of Micas murder?
If he stayed at a hotel, for how long? Where’s the hotel camera footage?
Surely he had to get gas along the way or food ?!? Where are the receipts.
They went to dinner after the soccer game? Surly the place had cameras.
2024.05.18 16:27 Retrogamepak Vault 89: No Privacy Whatsoever
Vault 89 uses a combination of social transparency, hostile architecture and cybernetic implants to ensure that nobody has any privacy, whatsoever.
Vault 89 consists of a single massive atrium. Everything is out in the open for all to see, no walls or additional rooms whatsoever. The only form of separation between areas are the bold outlines on the floor. Every blind spot and corner in the vault was meticulously designed to be covered by a secret camera or mirror so that nobody is out of sight. All 1200 Vault Residents live in a communal living space, complete with coed showers and bathrooms. Sure, you'll get an eyeful of Mrs. Abernathy, the curvaceous school teacher, but you'll also see your own grandmother and your hairy uncle in the exact same shower. Not only do the toilets not have doors, but they also face each other in a circle, a particularly evil design by Vault-Tec. This is an introverts worst nightmare.
The overseer's desk is in the exact center of the Vault. It sits on a raised platform for better observation of the population. Ironically, the Overseer's has the least amount of privacy of anyone in Vault 89. Everything the Overseer says or does is recorded and transcribed for their entire lives. This position is chosen randomly at the age of 18 and can never be revoked.
Not even the inner thoughts of the residents are safe in Vault 89. All staff and residents are fitted with a small transmitter at the base of their skull that transmits their thought waves to nearby speakers and pip boys. Anything from a school yard crush to the writhing hatred of a supervisor is broadcasted publicly and recorded for all to see.
There is a single jukebox in the center of Vault 89 by the overseer's desk. Anytime anyone chooses a record it's played over the loudspeakers. One only has to hope that the disc jockey of the day plays something other than,"Best Yodeling Hits of 2054"
Even the terminals aren't safe, not even the overseers. Any file or communication created on one computer is automatically duplicated and shared on all others in the vault. With open access like this, not even a private message is safe from being seen by everyone.
You may be asking yourself, if nobody has any privacy, how do they engage in, "adult recreational activities?" Some residents try to ignore the occasional symphony of bedsprings in the middle of the night, while some have become quite the sexual voyeurs and engage publicly against pre war taboos. If two residents decide to get married, their "honeymoon" consists of the couple being surrounded by a circle of loved ones to at least create the illusion of isolation. Valentine's day consists of a similar circle, but it's ment to protect the innocence of the children. You can imagine that most birthdays occur around the month of November.
The most privacy a resident of Vault 89 will ever receive in their entire lifetime is when their bodies are placed in the incinerator after autopsy. There is nothing more eerie yet satisfying than the long moment of silence before the button is pressed.
In Vault 89 there is no privacy, whatsoever.
submitted by Retrogamepak to TheVaultEntries [link] [comments]
Vault 89 consists of a single massive atrium. Everything is out in the open for all to see, no walls or additional rooms whatsoever. The only form of separation between areas are the bold outlines on the floor. Every blind spot and corner in the vault was meticulously designed to be covered by a secret camera or mirror so that nobody is out of sight. All 1200 Vault Residents live in a communal living space, complete with coed showers and bathrooms. Sure, you'll get an eyeful of Mrs. Abernathy, the curvaceous school teacher, but you'll also see your own grandmother and your hairy uncle in the exact same shower. Not only do the toilets not have doors, but they also face each other in a circle, a particularly evil design by Vault-Tec. This is an introverts worst nightmare.
The overseer's desk is in the exact center of the Vault. It sits on a raised platform for better observation of the population. Ironically, the Overseer's has the least amount of privacy of anyone in Vault 89. Everything the Overseer says or does is recorded and transcribed for their entire lives. This position is chosen randomly at the age of 18 and can never be revoked.
Not even the inner thoughts of the residents are safe in Vault 89. All staff and residents are fitted with a small transmitter at the base of their skull that transmits their thought waves to nearby speakers and pip boys. Anything from a school yard crush to the writhing hatred of a supervisor is broadcasted publicly and recorded for all to see.
There is a single jukebox in the center of Vault 89 by the overseer's desk. Anytime anyone chooses a record it's played over the loudspeakers. One only has to hope that the disc jockey of the day plays something other than,"Best Yodeling Hits of 2054"
Even the terminals aren't safe, not even the overseers. Any file or communication created on one computer is automatically duplicated and shared on all others in the vault. With open access like this, not even a private message is safe from being seen by everyone.
You may be asking yourself, if nobody has any privacy, how do they engage in, "adult recreational activities?" Some residents try to ignore the occasional symphony of bedsprings in the middle of the night, while some have become quite the sexual voyeurs and engage publicly against pre war taboos. If two residents decide to get married, their "honeymoon" consists of the couple being surrounded by a circle of loved ones to at least create the illusion of isolation. Valentine's day consists of a similar circle, but it's ment to protect the innocence of the children. You can imagine that most birthdays occur around the month of November.
The most privacy a resident of Vault 89 will ever receive in their entire lifetime is when their bodies are placed in the incinerator after autopsy. There is nothing more eerie yet satisfying than the long moment of silence before the button is pressed.
In Vault 89 there is no privacy, whatsoever.
2024.05.18 16:20 Actual-Media-8649 Am I sensitive due to grief or is this valid?
So this is a long post regarding SIL and going no contact
30th of November my 8 year old daughter was taken to hospital due to low oxygen due to a cold while in there she deteriorated quite extreme and ended up being transferred to a bigger hospital put on life support and unfortunately lost her life.
My daughter was three years old when I got with my partner and his parents have called themselves nanny and grandad since she was about 4 years old and treated her as a grandchild so regardless of DNA they are her grandparents however sister-in-law has always treated her like an outcast along with my older daughter that’s 13 and me and my partner have a three year old together but auntie is overbearing with him to the point my son cries every time she’s near him.
When my daughter was in hospital, my son was two,I’m still nursing to sleep so the hospital was happy to have him with me as he’s extremely clingy mummies boy. While my daughter was in hospital sister-in-law would message me asking how daughter was and offering to have my son that is extremely uncomfortable around her then when I politely declined her having my son but then would explain how my daughter was she would leave me on read because she didn’t get the answer she wanted rather than replying how my daughter was,then would message me the same thing practically the next day this went on for five days that we was in hospital where she offered to have my son then the message explaining how my daughter was doing which unfortunately was not doing well.
on the 5th of December, my daughter unfortunately passed away. I was with her and as you can imagine this destroyed me. Sister-in-law messaged me saying sorry for your loss blah blah blah nothing wrong with that part. Then it come to News getting around the town that my daughter had passed so I was receiving lots of messages on social media about my daughter so I just put a post up explaining what happened and then logged out of Facebook and stayed off social media for about a week. In that week SIL posted about how heartbroken she was that her niece had passed blah blah blah proper attention post considering she never once called my daughter niece in the whole time she was alive and was really milking social media.
When I did go back on I noticed she had done like five different posts about how heartbroken she was About my daughters passing bear in mind she never called her niece before in her whole life. For the sake of the family I didn’t bring it up plus I wasn’t sure if I’ve been extra sensitive due to grief
there was an autopsy performed because because they didn’t know exactly what happened since she had a common cold but unfortunately that virus attacked her heart so myocarditis was the reason, because everything had happened in December everything had been prolonged because the Christmas and New Year’s period.
my daughter didn’t get to the funeral directors until the 4th of January, I went to see my daughter on the 5th of January and asked my sister to watch my son for the first time ever my sister had watched my son and I’m not going to go into detail but my daughter had been passed for a month so as you can imagine seeing my daughter, she wasn’t in the best of ways, she didn’t look like herself and the best way to describe it is she was dead dead this really torn me up and I still have flashbacks to how she looked.
my partner receives a crappy message from his sister because it’s not fair that my sister got to watch Hunter and how this isn’t fair on her, she should’ve watched him which had actually shocked me that she would do that but it was the first ever time that my sister watched our son and given the situation that we had just gone to see my daughter‘s body who’s no longer with us I was extremely shocked that she could be that insensitive and entitled. I told partner I just couldn’t be around her for a little while. I won’t say anything to her. I’ll just avoid her to keep the peace then came January 15th that was my daughters funeral again obviously not an easy day. No parent should ever have to be planning a funeral for their child who was eight years old with her whole life ahead of her so not the best of days but his sister came she was nice on the day, no problems with her on that particular day the first thing she did when she got home was post pictures that she had taken and you know how hard it is blah blah blah on social media again for likes but I didn’t say anything. she asked if we could go round to her house, she still lives with her mum and dad and her partner and two children. she wanted us to go round there so me thinking maybe you know it’s it’s just checking in on us because of we’ve lost my a child but what it actually was was for her to give her personalised card and Teddy and a big amount of fuss to mine and my partners son asking him to be pageboy at her wedding , now this wedding is May 2026 so the fact that she needed to do it two days after my daughters funeral, didn’t sit right and that was when I actually finally had enough and I had to walk out because I could not sit through watching her try everything just to bring attention back on herself literally two days after we buried my daughter.
I didn’t hear from her at all and February comes my eldest daughter was 13 on the 22nd of February again no text nothing from sister-in-law then February 23 was my son’s third birthday my sister and my nieces and nephews came over. My partner Mum and Dad came over and they had brought my niece and nephew from that side of the family too so nobody mentioned anything about my sister-in-law so I assumed she wasn’t coming and was thankful for that then just as I’m about to do the cake I get told no wait for sister-in-law because she is coming. She didn’t even bother to let me know so then she gets there gives my son his presents and he’s got a lot more presents than usual and a voucher all fine. I do the cake and then they say it was lovely and leave then My daughter asked me if I could message my partners mum and dad to say thank you for her card and money as her birthday was the day before but being older she spent it with friends at the cinema so I stupidly said what did my partner sister get you assuming she would have got her a card at least even just a happy birthday but no she didn’t even say happy birthday to my daughter or hello so my daughter still getting the same treatment my other daughter got through life but then apparently was a niece once she died.
Then I noticed the post that sister-in-law had tagged me in about my son‘s birthday tag removed and the tag in my daughter’s funeral had also been removed and I was like okay then? But I’m not in the right mindset for drama so I just thought I’ll just remove as a friend on social media problems solved rather than this petty removing tag stuff,
within five minutes of me removing her straight away calling me a bitch and asking what my problem was with her so I explained from start to finish what my problem was with her and I explained that I don’t expect her to treat my oldest as her niece but I do expect her to at least say happy birthday to her and acknowledge that she is also human to which she replied that my daughter isn’t family so she will not be doing that and that she wasn’t using my other daughter for likes she would never do that even though she’s always been about attention and I snapped at that point and explained to her that if she can’t treat my children fairly on their birthdays then I don’t want her around on either of their birthdays to which my partner has hundred percent agreed with me, especially as I treat her two children exactly the same as my sister‘s children and class them as my nieces and nephews so that was how it was left
until she then messaged my partner explaining she is disgusted that I could say that she was using my daughter for likes when she would never do that and that she would never try and bring attention back to her the reason she picked two days after my daughters funeral for wedding stuff was because she was doing it for friends that lived far away too not that friends was there or anything so that was invalid. my partner then explained to her that there was no issue with her doing it for friends but it was not an acceptable time to do it when we have just lost a child.
I have decided to go no contact because I cannot bear to be anywhere near this woman and she has now messaged my partner moaning that she hasn’t seen my son for well since his birthday my partner has explained that I have gone no contact and that he agrees that if she can’t treat my children fairly, she doesn’t get to be around either of them so we have in fact taken the kids no contact too.
My partner has backed me. also, just as my daughter passed his sister went and like all of my Instagram posts with my daughter in from the last 5 years and commented on them about her beautiful niece even though she never liked her picture with my daughter and before this point. She also posted on New Year’s Eve about new chapter and how this was the best year of our life because she got engaged bare in mind that two weeks before that she was so heartbroken my daughter died but suddenly it was the best year ever. There’s a few more things she did but if I type them all I’ll be here all day.
Am I wrong for cutting contact because I’m in the middle grief? I have to second-guess everything in case it’s grief but I just feel the disrespect and entitlement that she has shown since the loss of my daughter is quite frankly something that I never want to be around because I could not imagine being that way to anyone that has just lost a child. But am I right for these feelings and cutting her from my son’s life? Can I have honest opinions please
submitted by Actual-Media-8649 to AITAH [link] [comments]
30th of November my 8 year old daughter was taken to hospital due to low oxygen due to a cold while in there she deteriorated quite extreme and ended up being transferred to a bigger hospital put on life support and unfortunately lost her life.
My daughter was three years old when I got with my partner and his parents have called themselves nanny and grandad since she was about 4 years old and treated her as a grandchild so regardless of DNA they are her grandparents however sister-in-law has always treated her like an outcast along with my older daughter that’s 13 and me and my partner have a three year old together but auntie is overbearing with him to the point my son cries every time she’s near him.
When my daughter was in hospital, my son was two,I’m still nursing to sleep so the hospital was happy to have him with me as he’s extremely clingy mummies boy. While my daughter was in hospital sister-in-law would message me asking how daughter was and offering to have my son that is extremely uncomfortable around her then when I politely declined her having my son but then would explain how my daughter was she would leave me on read because she didn’t get the answer she wanted rather than replying how my daughter was,then would message me the same thing practically the next day this went on for five days that we was in hospital where she offered to have my son then the message explaining how my daughter was doing which unfortunately was not doing well.
on the 5th of December, my daughter unfortunately passed away. I was with her and as you can imagine this destroyed me. Sister-in-law messaged me saying sorry for your loss blah blah blah nothing wrong with that part. Then it come to News getting around the town that my daughter had passed so I was receiving lots of messages on social media about my daughter so I just put a post up explaining what happened and then logged out of Facebook and stayed off social media for about a week. In that week SIL posted about how heartbroken she was that her niece had passed blah blah blah proper attention post considering she never once called my daughter niece in the whole time she was alive and was really milking social media.
When I did go back on I noticed she had done like five different posts about how heartbroken she was About my daughters passing bear in mind she never called her niece before in her whole life. For the sake of the family I didn’t bring it up plus I wasn’t sure if I’ve been extra sensitive due to grief
there was an autopsy performed because because they didn’t know exactly what happened since she had a common cold but unfortunately that virus attacked her heart so myocarditis was the reason, because everything had happened in December everything had been prolonged because the Christmas and New Year’s period.
my daughter didn’t get to the funeral directors until the 4th of January, I went to see my daughter on the 5th of January and asked my sister to watch my son for the first time ever my sister had watched my son and I’m not going to go into detail but my daughter had been passed for a month so as you can imagine seeing my daughter, she wasn’t in the best of ways, she didn’t look like herself and the best way to describe it is she was dead dead this really torn me up and I still have flashbacks to how she looked.
my partner receives a crappy message from his sister because it’s not fair that my sister got to watch Hunter and how this isn’t fair on her, she should’ve watched him which had actually shocked me that she would do that but it was the first ever time that my sister watched our son and given the situation that we had just gone to see my daughter‘s body who’s no longer with us I was extremely shocked that she could be that insensitive and entitled. I told partner I just couldn’t be around her for a little while. I won’t say anything to her. I’ll just avoid her to keep the peace then came January 15th that was my daughters funeral again obviously not an easy day. No parent should ever have to be planning a funeral for their child who was eight years old with her whole life ahead of her so not the best of days but his sister came she was nice on the day, no problems with her on that particular day the first thing she did when she got home was post pictures that she had taken and you know how hard it is blah blah blah on social media again for likes but I didn’t say anything. she asked if we could go round to her house, she still lives with her mum and dad and her partner and two children. she wanted us to go round there so me thinking maybe you know it’s it’s just checking in on us because of we’ve lost my a child but what it actually was was for her to give her personalised card and Teddy and a big amount of fuss to mine and my partners son asking him to be pageboy at her wedding , now this wedding is May 2026 so the fact that she needed to do it two days after my daughters funeral, didn’t sit right and that was when I actually finally had enough and I had to walk out because I could not sit through watching her try everything just to bring attention back on herself literally two days after we buried my daughter.
I didn’t hear from her at all and February comes my eldest daughter was 13 on the 22nd of February again no text nothing from sister-in-law then February 23 was my son’s third birthday my sister and my nieces and nephews came over. My partner Mum and Dad came over and they had brought my niece and nephew from that side of the family too so nobody mentioned anything about my sister-in-law so I assumed she wasn’t coming and was thankful for that then just as I’m about to do the cake I get told no wait for sister-in-law because she is coming. She didn’t even bother to let me know so then she gets there gives my son his presents and he’s got a lot more presents than usual and a voucher all fine. I do the cake and then they say it was lovely and leave then My daughter asked me if I could message my partners mum and dad to say thank you for her card and money as her birthday was the day before but being older she spent it with friends at the cinema so I stupidly said what did my partner sister get you assuming she would have got her a card at least even just a happy birthday but no she didn’t even say happy birthday to my daughter or hello so my daughter still getting the same treatment my other daughter got through life but then apparently was a niece once she died.
Then I noticed the post that sister-in-law had tagged me in about my son‘s birthday tag removed and the tag in my daughter’s funeral had also been removed and I was like okay then? But I’m not in the right mindset for drama so I just thought I’ll just remove as a friend on social media problems solved rather than this petty removing tag stuff,
within five minutes of me removing her straight away calling me a bitch and asking what my problem was with her so I explained from start to finish what my problem was with her and I explained that I don’t expect her to treat my oldest as her niece but I do expect her to at least say happy birthday to her and acknowledge that she is also human to which she replied that my daughter isn’t family so she will not be doing that and that she wasn’t using my other daughter for likes she would never do that even though she’s always been about attention and I snapped at that point and explained to her that if she can’t treat my children fairly on their birthdays then I don’t want her around on either of their birthdays to which my partner has hundred percent agreed with me, especially as I treat her two children exactly the same as my sister‘s children and class them as my nieces and nephews so that was how it was left
until she then messaged my partner explaining she is disgusted that I could say that she was using my daughter for likes when she would never do that and that she would never try and bring attention back to her the reason she picked two days after my daughters funeral for wedding stuff was because she was doing it for friends that lived far away too not that friends was there or anything so that was invalid. my partner then explained to her that there was no issue with her doing it for friends but it was not an acceptable time to do it when we have just lost a child.
I have decided to go no contact because I cannot bear to be anywhere near this woman and she has now messaged my partner moaning that she hasn’t seen my son for well since his birthday my partner has explained that I have gone no contact and that he agrees that if she can’t treat my children fairly, she doesn’t get to be around either of them so we have in fact taken the kids no contact too.
My partner has backed me. also, just as my daughter passed his sister went and like all of my Instagram posts with my daughter in from the last 5 years and commented on them about her beautiful niece even though she never liked her picture with my daughter and before this point. She also posted on New Year’s Eve about new chapter and how this was the best year of our life because she got engaged bare in mind that two weeks before that she was so heartbroken my daughter died but suddenly it was the best year ever. There’s a few more things she did but if I type them all I’ll be here all day.
Am I wrong for cutting contact because I’m in the middle grief? I have to second-guess everything in case it’s grief but I just feel the disrespect and entitlement that she has shown since the loss of my daughter is quite frankly something that I never want to be around because I could not imagine being that way to anyone that has just lost a child. But am I right for these feelings and cutting her from my son’s life? Can I have honest opinions please
2024.05.18 16:05 flecksee_recksee "Dromaeosaur attacks all follow a similar pattern. They're creatures of habit and very effective killers. But for one to rip a person in two and eat them while they're still alive? Whatever we're dealing with here, I want no part in it."
 | submitted by flecksee_recksee to analoghorror [link] [comments] |
2024.05.18 14:54 Specific-Guess8988 Questions about the pineapple
There are some areas of this case that I know better than others. One of the areas where I feel like I have general knowledge but I don't have more thorough and specific knowledge is regarding the pineapple. Mainly concerning all the sources where some of the information about it originated from (who published it).
I did do some research yesterday to try and find some of these sources and more information about the pineapple in this case. As well, I did some research on pineapples in general and about the digestive system. However, I still have some questions.
I started by looking at the autopsy report. Below are two quotes from it:
"The stomach contains a small amount (8-11cc) of viscous to green to tan colored thick mucous material without particulate matter identified. The gastic mucosa is autolyzed but contains no areas of hemorrhage or ulceration. The yellow to light green-tan apparent vegetable or fruit material which may represent fragments of pineapple.
EVIDENCE: Items turned over to the Boulder Police Department as evidence include: Fibers and hair from clothing and body surfaces; ligatures; clothing, vaginal swabs and smears; rectal swabs and smears; oral swabs and smears; paper bags from hands; fingernail clippings; jewelry; paper bags from feet; white body bag; samples of head hair, eyelashes and eyebrows; swabs from right and left thighs and right cheek; red top and purple top tubes of blood."
There are a few things that I spotted right away:
Nowhere in this does it mention that the duodenum is where they observed this content. It simple says "the stomach contains". From my research I found that the duodenum is right underneath the stomach and is the first part of the small intestines. So I don't know if a coroner would refer to this as the stomach or not. Additionally, the duodenum seems to have four parts and I'm curious which part it was found in - I don't know if anyone knows this or not since I've yet to find where the duodenum was originally sourced.
I also noticed that the coroner doesn't specifically identify what it is that is being observed. He says vegetable or fruit, but then says it could be pineapple. I know that coroners hear information from investigators about the crime scene and will sometimes use that information to help with their autopsy findings / reports. So is it possible that LE informed the coroner at some point about the pineapple and this is why it specifically was mentioned?
There's obviously no mention of cherries or grapes. So I am curious where this information came from. I'm assuming Paula Woodward, but then where did she get it from?
I noticed that in the list of evidence turned over to LE,, that I don't see these "stomach contents" mentioned. How could this be tested if it wasn't handed over to LE as evidence? Was it done at a later time? Is this autopsy report the only and final one? Am I viewing the entire thing?
Additionally, how would any experts for the Ramseys have gotten a hold of it to say there were cherries and grapes in it?
When I googled how long it takes for food to get to the duodenum, this is the result that I got: "Food typically takes 2–4 hours to move from the stomach to the small intestine." When I learned more about the duodenum specifically, I saw this same time mentioned (2-4 hours).
However, when I googled how long does it take a person to digest pineapple, this is the result that I got: "According to Daily Pioneer, pineapple is a sub-acid fruit that takes about 30–40 minutes to digest."
The second source doesn't mention more specifics like if this is from the time of consumption or not. However, if it is, then shouldn't the sources about the duodenum include a shorter window of time. Ex: 30mins - 4hrs (instead of 2-4hrs).
I know that there are different variables that can impact how fast foods are digested. This can be dependent on the person (gender, age, and other variables relating to their own body and health) and this can be dependent on the type of food (for example the body processes carbs and proteins at different rates).
Something that I didn't look into because I wasn't sure how I could do so in a manner that was accurate, was whether the digestive system could be impaired after a head injury and whether this could throw off any attempt to calculate when she ate the pineapple.
submitted by Specific-Guess8988 to JonBenet [link] [comments]
I did do some research yesterday to try and find some of these sources and more information about the pineapple in this case. As well, I did some research on pineapples in general and about the digestive system. However, I still have some questions.
I started by looking at the autopsy report. Below are two quotes from it:
"The stomach contains a small amount (8-11cc) of viscous to green to tan colored thick mucous material without particulate matter identified. The gastic mucosa is autolyzed but contains no areas of hemorrhage or ulceration. The yellow to light green-tan apparent vegetable or fruit material which may represent fragments of pineapple.
EVIDENCE: Items turned over to the Boulder Police Department as evidence include: Fibers and hair from clothing and body surfaces; ligatures; clothing, vaginal swabs and smears; rectal swabs and smears; oral swabs and smears; paper bags from hands; fingernail clippings; jewelry; paper bags from feet; white body bag; samples of head hair, eyelashes and eyebrows; swabs from right and left thighs and right cheek; red top and purple top tubes of blood."
There are a few things that I spotted right away:
Nowhere in this does it mention that the duodenum is where they observed this content. It simple says "the stomach contains". From my research I found that the duodenum is right underneath the stomach and is the first part of the small intestines. So I don't know if a coroner would refer to this as the stomach or not. Additionally, the duodenum seems to have four parts and I'm curious which part it was found in - I don't know if anyone knows this or not since I've yet to find where the duodenum was originally sourced.
I also noticed that the coroner doesn't specifically identify what it is that is being observed. He says vegetable or fruit, but then says it could be pineapple. I know that coroners hear information from investigators about the crime scene and will sometimes use that information to help with their autopsy findings / reports. So is it possible that LE informed the coroner at some point about the pineapple and this is why it specifically was mentioned?
There's obviously no mention of cherries or grapes. So I am curious where this information came from. I'm assuming Paula Woodward, but then where did she get it from?
I noticed that in the list of evidence turned over to LE,, that I don't see these "stomach contents" mentioned. How could this be tested if it wasn't handed over to LE as evidence? Was it done at a later time? Is this autopsy report the only and final one? Am I viewing the entire thing?
Additionally, how would any experts for the Ramseys have gotten a hold of it to say there were cherries and grapes in it?
When I googled how long it takes for food to get to the duodenum, this is the result that I got: "Food typically takes 2–4 hours to move from the stomach to the small intestine." When I learned more about the duodenum specifically, I saw this same time mentioned (2-4 hours).
However, when I googled how long does it take a person to digest pineapple, this is the result that I got: "According to Daily Pioneer, pineapple is a sub-acid fruit that takes about 30–40 minutes to digest."
The second source doesn't mention more specifics like if this is from the time of consumption or not. However, if it is, then shouldn't the sources about the duodenum include a shorter window of time. Ex: 30mins - 4hrs (instead of 2-4hrs).
I know that there are different variables that can impact how fast foods are digested. This can be dependent on the person (gender, age, and other variables relating to their own body and health) and this can be dependent on the type of food (for example the body processes carbs and proteins at different rates).
Something that I didn't look into because I wasn't sure how I could do so in a manner that was accurate, was whether the digestive system could be impaired after a head injury and whether this could throw off any attempt to calculate when she ate the pineapple.
2024.05.18 14:41 Specific-Guess8988 Questions about the pineapple
There are some areas of this case that I know better than others. One of the areas where I feel like I have general knowledge but I don't have more thorough and specific knowledge is regarding the pineapple. Mainly concerning all the sources where some of the information about it originated from (who published it).
I did do some research yesterday to try and find some of these sources and more information about the pineapple in this case. As well, I did some research on pineapples in general and about the digestive system. However, I still have some questions.
I started by looking at the autopsy report. Below are two quotes from it:
"The stomach contains a small amount (8-11cc) of viscous to green to tan colored thick mucous material without particulate matter identified. The gastic mucosa is autolyzed but contains no areas of hemorrhage or ulceration. The yellow to light green-tan apparent vegetable or fruit material which may represent fragments of pineapple.
EVIDENCE: Items turned over to the Boulder Police Department as evidence include: Fibers and hair from clothing and body surfaces; ligatures; clothing, vaginal swabs and smears; rectal swabs and smears; oral swabs and smears; paper bags from hands; fingernail clippings; jewelry; paper bags from feet; white body bag; samples of head hair, eyelashes and eyebrows; swabs from right and left thighs and right cheek; red top and purple top tubes of blood."
There are a few things that I spotted right away:
Nowhere in this does it mention that the duodenum is where they observed this content. It simple says "the stomach contains". From my research I found that the duodenum is right underneath the stomach and is the first part of the small intestines. So I don't know if a coroner would refer to this as the stomach or not. Additionally, the duodenum seems to have four parts and I'm curious which part it was found in - I don't know if anyone knows this or not since I've yet to find where the duodenum was originally sourced.
I also noticed that the coroner doesn't specifically identify what it is that is being observed. He says vegetable or fruit, but then says it could be pineapple. I know that coroners hear information from investigators about the crime scene and will sometimes use that information to help with their autopsy findings / reports. So is it possible that LE informed the coroner at some point about the pineapple and this is why it specifically was mentioned?
There's obviously no mention of cherries or grapes. So I am curious where this information came from. I'm assuming Paula Woodward, but then where did she get it from?
I noticed that in the list of evidence turned over to LE,, that I don't see these "stomach contents" mentioned. How could this be tested if it wasn't handed over to LE as evidence? Was it done at a later time? Is this autopsy report the only and final one? Am I viewing the entire thing?
Additionally, how would any experts for the Ramseys have gotten a hold of it to say there were cherries and grapes in it?
When I googled how long it takes for food to get to the duodenum, this is the result that I got: "Food typically takes 2–4 hours to move from the stomach to the small intestine." When I learned more about the duodenum specifically, I saw this same time mentioned (2-4 hours).
However, when I googled how long does it take a person to digest pineapple, this is the result that I got: "According to Daily Pioneer, pineapple is a sub-acid fruit that takes about 30–40 minutes to digest."
The second source doesn't mention more specifics like if this is from the time of consumption or not. However, if it is, then shouldn't the sources about the duodenum include a shorter window of time. Ex: 30mins - 4hrs (instead of 2-4hrs).
I know that there are different variables that can impact how fast foods are digested. This can be dependent on the person (gender, age, and other variables relating to their own body and health) and this can be dependent on the type of food (for example the body processes carbs and proteins at different rates).
Something that I didn't look into because I wasn't sure how I could do so in a manner that was accurate, was whether the digestive system could be impaired after a head injury and whether this could throw off any attempt to calculate when she ate the pineapple.
submitted by Specific-Guess8988 to JonBenetRamsey [link] [comments]
I did do some research yesterday to try and find some of these sources and more information about the pineapple in this case. As well, I did some research on pineapples in general and about the digestive system. However, I still have some questions.
I started by looking at the autopsy report. Below are two quotes from it:
"The stomach contains a small amount (8-11cc) of viscous to green to tan colored thick mucous material without particulate matter identified. The gastic mucosa is autolyzed but contains no areas of hemorrhage or ulceration. The yellow to light green-tan apparent vegetable or fruit material which may represent fragments of pineapple.
EVIDENCE: Items turned over to the Boulder Police Department as evidence include: Fibers and hair from clothing and body surfaces; ligatures; clothing, vaginal swabs and smears; rectal swabs and smears; oral swabs and smears; paper bags from hands; fingernail clippings; jewelry; paper bags from feet; white body bag; samples of head hair, eyelashes and eyebrows; swabs from right and left thighs and right cheek; red top and purple top tubes of blood."
There are a few things that I spotted right away:
Nowhere in this does it mention that the duodenum is where they observed this content. It simple says "the stomach contains". From my research I found that the duodenum is right underneath the stomach and is the first part of the small intestines. So I don't know if a coroner would refer to this as the stomach or not. Additionally, the duodenum seems to have four parts and I'm curious which part it was found in - I don't know if anyone knows this or not since I've yet to find where the duodenum was originally sourced.
I also noticed that the coroner doesn't specifically identify what it is that is being observed. He says vegetable or fruit, but then says it could be pineapple. I know that coroners hear information from investigators about the crime scene and will sometimes use that information to help with their autopsy findings / reports. So is it possible that LE informed the coroner at some point about the pineapple and this is why it specifically was mentioned?
There's obviously no mention of cherries or grapes. So I am curious where this information came from. I'm assuming Paula Woodward, but then where did she get it from?
I noticed that in the list of evidence turned over to LE,, that I don't see these "stomach contents" mentioned. How could this be tested if it wasn't handed over to LE as evidence? Was it done at a later time? Is this autopsy report the only and final one? Am I viewing the entire thing?
Additionally, how would any experts for the Ramseys have gotten a hold of it to say there were cherries and grapes in it?
When I googled how long it takes for food to get to the duodenum, this is the result that I got: "Food typically takes 2–4 hours to move from the stomach to the small intestine." When I learned more about the duodenum specifically, I saw this same time mentioned (2-4 hours).
However, when I googled how long does it take a person to digest pineapple, this is the result that I got: "According to Daily Pioneer, pineapple is a sub-acid fruit that takes about 30–40 minutes to digest."
The second source doesn't mention more specifics like if this is from the time of consumption or not. However, if it is, then shouldn't the sources about the duodenum include a shorter window of time. Ex: 30mins - 4hrs (instead of 2-4hrs).
I know that there are different variables that can impact how fast foods are digested. This can be dependent on the person (gender, age, and other variables relating to their own body and health) and this can be dependent on the type of food (for example the body processes carbs and proteins at different rates).
Something that I didn't look into because I wasn't sure how I could do so in a manner that was accurate, was whether the digestive system could be impaired after a head injury and whether this could throw off any attempt to calculate when she ate the pineapple.
2024.05.18 09:21 Powermetalbunny A Gift From The Void
The new gift-specific dialogue from the 1.6 update has me absolutely tickled pink! This one especially… I also haven’t practiced my creative writing in a while, and I decided it needed to happen sooner rather than later, so here, have a short story! Sorry if it's boring… I’m a little rusty!
“A Gift From The Void”
It was only yesterday… No one was quite sure where it had come from. There had been a sinister cackling noise ringing through the night air and Abigail had mentioned seeing an unidentifiable shape soaring through the sky during her walk home from the cemetery. The townsfolk gossiped and speculated about what it could have been that evening, but by the next morning they still hadn’t come to any reasonable explanation. It was only yesterday, and yet the entire village seemed to have already put it out of their minds and moved on. The scandal and chatter following the “Anchovy Soup Incident” at the Summer Luau several years back had lasted far longer than this… Even now Sam was still getting sideways glances whenever he got within a 20 foot radius of the soup cauldron, but this just blows over in less than a day? The priorities of small town people were strange.
Things had gone back to that same semblance of backwater, middle-of-nowhere kind of normal, and now the night had become just the same as any other Friday evening. Sebastian was playing a round of billiards with Sam, and while Sam was preoccupied with lining up the cue with his intended target ball, the farmer strolled into the saloon and up to the bar. Heads turned and raised to the newcomer for a moment before returning to whatever it was that had been previously holding their attention. Sebastian caught the sudden flourish of movement out of his periphery, but didn’t pay it much mind. The farmer ordered a coffee and a plate of the night’s special, and struck up a conversation with Gus about a peculiar egg that had materialized in their coop seemingly out of nowhere the night before. Apparently they’d decided to tuck it away into the incubator and wait to see what… if anything hatched from it.
Sebastian had never really been one to eavesdrop, but the wait for Sam to make his move was becoming boring, and sometimes the stories that passed around the saloon on Friday evenings got interesting depending on who all was involved. The story didn’t really go too far into detail. The farmer poked at their food until it had cooled enough to not scald the inside of their mouth, then they took a few bites before bringing up the events of the previous evening. What first started off as a funny story seemed to turn into some deep discussion with Gus about the mysteries of life. Eventually, Willy and Elliott were caught up in the mirth and it turned into a medley of strange tales from faraway lands and once-upon-a-times. Obviously exaggerated sightings of fearsome creatures on a midnight stormy sea, legends of colossal white whales, references to works written by masters of the mystery genre, as well as some from a trashy neo-noir novel or two that had probably been picked up from a bookstore clearance shelf.
Willy stroked his beard and mused about some daring battle between himself and a fish of questionable proportions that seemed to grow larger each time he told the story. Sebastian had heard this one before. The fight over the line had gone on for over an hour before the shadow of the fish rose near to the surface, and just before Willy could land the monster of a catch, it dove below again, taking the whole fishing rod overboard and nearly Willy himself with it.
Elliott gulped down the last few swigs of ale in his tankard, slapped the farmer firmly on the back, snorted and chuckled in an ungraceful yet jolly display that only ever crept out of him when he’d had a bit too much to drink.
“That fish becomes more miraculous each time he talks about it!” Elliott shook his head and smiled as he leaned almost a little too far forward. There was a slight sway to his posture and he tried to straighten his body back in line with the barstool. “To life, and her many little silly tricks of fate, my friends!” he declared. He raised the empty mug, and with his free hand, delicately tucked a few strands of stray hair behind his ear with the tips of his fingers. He rested his elbow back on the bar before he could lose his balance and sighed contently. Elliott’s cheeks were practically glowing red at this point and it was a wonder that he wasn’t slurring his words yet.
“Aye, you’ve all heard my fish story haven’t ye?” Willy chuckled. “How ‘bout the one about the Baba Yaga?” the farmer’s head tilted and they gazed curiously at the fisherman. Willy rested his foot on the crossbar of the barstool, lifted the rim of his hat out of his line of sight, and leaned into the counter. “Some know ‘er as the cannibal witch… others say she’s just a misunderstood haggard ol’ woman who lives alone out in woods or marshes. It’s said she lives a rickety old house that stands on chicken feet, and she likes to lure weary travelers into ‘er home, only to gobble ‘em up once they let their guard down. Apparently she’s especially fond of the taste of children…” He laughed in a hoarse tone and made strange spider-like gestures with his calloused hands as if he were telling campfire stories to a group of kids. The farmer’s nose wrinkled at the outlandish notion of some feral old woman devouring toddlers, and Willy laughed heartily at their reaction. “I think that last part the parents like to add into the story to frighten the little ones. It keeps ‘em from wondering into the forests and swamps alone at night.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes and glanced back to the pool table. He watched the cue ball clack into the twelve before the twelve bounced off the barriers in the corner of the table and rolled slowly to a stop on the felt surface without pocketing. Sam huffed and stood back upright.
“You really aren’t very good at this, are you?” Seb chimed as he returned his full attention to the game at hand. Sam grinned and laughed.
“Nope!”
“Watch and learn….” Sebastian took aim at the cue ball, and after a single firm strike, drove it into the tiny gap between the two and seven. The cue stopped hard, but the two and seven sped to the opposite corners of the foot of the table, each dropping into one of the corner pockets simultaneously. Sam scoffed and paced about the pool room, but looked back over his shoulder just in time to catch Sebastian with a triumphantly cheeky grin on his face. Sam clicked his tongue and lightly thumped the base of his cue stick into the floorboards.
“Show-off…” he mumbled.
Elliott lifted the rim of the empty vessel to his lips, then chuckled again as he noticed the absence of ale and gestured it in Gus’ direction.
“Good sir, my glass is empty and…. I’m a writer!”
“Maybe you should stop for tonight…” the farmer interjected. “You won’t be sober enough to start your next chapter in the morning!” Elliott rolled his eyes and leaned against the bar counter. He tried to give one of his best theatrically exasperated sighs, but when the exhale turned into a case of the hiccups, they knew he was down for the count. He smiled defiantly and tried his best to look dignified through the sudden spasms in his diaphragm and soused thousand yard stare.
“I-am fiiine… ne’re betta’…”
“…..Aaaand, there he goes…” Leah giggled from the end of the bar counter. “It’s like dropping a ton of bricks on a peach.”
“I oughtta’ help the ol’ scallywag home, I s’pose!” Willy groaned as he stood from the bar stool. He smiled as he hoisted one of Elliott’s arms over his shoulders and stood him up from the bar stool. “C’mon you menace… Let’s get ya home before you make a fool of yourself in front of all the lassies!” he chuckled. Sam took a moment to appreciate the situation at the bar counter. He shook his head and laughed, then took another shot at the 12 and missed horribly yet again.
“Easy does it there!” Emily cooed as she cleared away the empty tankard. “Try not to drop him too hard!” Elliott wobbled towards the door as Willy struggled to keep him upright, and just before they stepped out into the lukewarm summer evening, the farmer waved one last farewell and called out to the well marinated dandy-man as he staggered away.
“Nighty-night! Sleep tight, Rapunzel!” they chirped. Elliot responded to the joke by blowing an overly exaggerated kiss over his shoulder and daintily waiving his fingertips at the company in the saloon, then he nearly tripped over himself as he turned back to the path home. A couple of snorts, giggles and guffaws rose up over the music and chatter in the saloon and quickly melted back into the white noise once the moment passed.
Seb looked Sam in the eyes with a determined glare and smirked.
“Eight in the corner pocket….” Seb didn’t have a clear shot, but leaned over the table, reared back the stick and spiked it into the cue ball. It ricocheted from the bumper, side-swiped the eight, and put just enough force into the edge to cause it to spin sideways into the pocket he’d called. Sam laughed and scratched at the back of his head.
“Awwww, man…” he groaned. “You got me again!” Sam leaned against his cue stick and looked over the table before his eyes lit up in anticipation. “How about a best three out of five?” Abigail giggled at Sam’s request as she stretched and leaned back into the sofa.
“Give it up, blondie! He cooks your goose at this game EVERY single time…. You’re doomed.” She teased. “It’s getting late anyways…”
…
It had been almost a month since the odd shape had been spotted flying over town at this point. Seb and Abby had talked in depth about it, and though most of the other townsfolk had come to the conclusion that it had merely been some sort of exotic bird flying out toward the fern islands, Abby was positive she hadn’t been mistaken. In fact she was adamant that the form looked human. She hadn’t seen or heard any wings flapping and the “squawking” sounded more so like the laugh of an old woman than the cries of a bird. The figure seemed to levitate or hover effortlessly and without the use of any physical or mechanical assistance. It was slumped over as if it was curled up or sitting and just…. Floated away.
The long night spent coding and researching the relevant programing issues at the computer, had caused Sebastian to rise late. He was groggy, didn’t have much motivation to bother rolling out of bed, and it was almost noon at this point. He could hear the rain pattering against the roof of the house and the rumble of distant thunder. As lazy as he felt, a smoke sounded pretty good about now. The sound and sight of the ocean on rainy days also had a way of clearing his head and a little stroll would probably do him some good.
He didn’t pass anyone on the way out of the house. Robin was likely at her aerobics club, Maru, at work in the clinic, and who knew where Demetrius was… Out shoving dirt samples into test tubes, or measuring the volume and PH of the current rainfall? As long as he wasn’t dissecting frogs. Out of all of Sebastian’s childhood memories, that was the one that stuck in his head and haunted him. Back then, Maru had only just been born, and while Robin was busy keeping her entertained, fixing her bottle or changing diapers, Seb was wandering the house trying to find something to occupy his time. He’d wandered into his step-father’s study and there on the examination tray was a deceased frog pinned on it’s back, limbs splayed like Da Vinci’s “Vitruvian Man” with it’s belly sliced open. Sebastian had cried and pouted over that for several days and had given Demetrius the silent treatment for even days longer intermixed with spells of arm crossing, head turning and the occasional stuck out tongue and blown raspberry. He cringed at the thought even now.
The hinges creaked as he pushed the front door open and paused. The summer was starting to give way to autumn and the parched ground soaked up the rain and turned loose the pungent, almost overpowering scent of petrichor.
Sebastian flipped the hood of his pull-over around his head and tightened up the drawstrings. He took a moment to smell the aroma of wet grass and earth that drifted through the air and held the fragrance in his lungs as he closed the door behind him.
He began his slow, steady march toward the beach and lost count of his steps after he’d passed the old Community Center. He’d barely noticed the changing of terrain under his feet as he moved almost subconsciously toward the ocean. The raw, muddy dirt paths of the mountain, the crunch of rough stones and shuffle of old, dead pine needles that carpeted the ground… They’d transitioned into the grass and cobblestone of the town plaza at some point, but they all seemed to blend together into “just steps” after a while. His inner thoughts distracted him to the point where he barely paid attention to his surroundings until he felt his footfalls sinking and shifting underneath him, and he knew he’d hit sand. He heaved a deep sigh of the salt air and looked over the horizon as he paced toward the docks.
When the sky was this gray and muted, the color of the sea seemed to take on it’s own jewel-like quality and without the blue sky to draw attention away from it, the eyes of each breaking wave became a splendor to watch. They erupted into columns of aquamarine, sapphire and sodalite laced with the bright, almost pearlescent white of the sea foam before curling over, crashing into the tides and giving way to the next one.
Sebastian came to a stop at the furthest reaching section of the wood panels and straightened up his posture as he groped into his pockets for the pack of cigarettes he’d brought with him. He selected one from the box, tucked it between his teeth and plunged his fingers back into the pocket for his lighter. He curled his left hand in front of his face, to protect the fire from the wind, flicked open the lid and thumbed the igniter. The flint sparked into a flame as it spun and lit up the end of the cigarette to a smoldering red glow. He pulled in a breath and held it for a moment before letting it out and watching the smoke dance away in the wind. It still wasn’t quite as satisfying as that first breath of rain when he’d stepped out of the house. Another sigh escaped Seb’s lips as he stared back at the oncoming crests of seawater and his mind started to drift again.
He imagined the city lights blazing somewhere across the ocean like stars, and thought about starting over somewhere far away. Disappearing, and reappearing somewhere else like a shadow moving through fragments of darkness and light, somewhere where no one knew him. Just vanishing and leaving everything behind. His parents, his sister, his friends… the thought excited him for a moment, before giving way to an intense feeling of regret and sadness. Maybe even a little shame. Having everyone was frustrating, but would having none of them be better or worse? He’d never known anything else. The same friends he’d grown up with, the same smell of the changing seasons in the mountain air, the same four walls of his bedroom, the sound of his sister’s laugh, or the taste of his mother’s cooking… even the way his stepfather overreacted to the littlest things was something he'd grown used to. He took another long breath.
The waves lapped and pounded at the underside of the dock so loudly he couldn’t hear the patter of oncoming footfalls against the wood and he was caught unaware when a sudden presence made itself known.
“Hey.” The start was enough to make him tense up, and he almost tripped over his own feet. Seb whirled around and when he found himself face to face with the farmer, he relaxed again.
“You scared the absolute crap out of me…..” He said as he rolled his eyes. He flicked his thumb against the filter of the cigarette to knock away the ashes and looked over the docks. They were alone.
“Sorry….” There was an awkward moment of silence between the two of them before Sebastian tried to force conversation.
“What are you up to out here?” He asked. He wasn’t really interested in the answer, but felt obligated to return the acknowledgement of his presence. The farmer held up the rod that was firmly clasped in their right hand and gestured to the ocean.
“Fishing!” Seb raised an eyebrow and cocked his head at the response.
“In the rain?” he asked. His tone was almost dismissive. The farmer nodded.
“Willy said that there’s a number of fish that only come out when it’s raining, so I wanted to see what bites.” They began. “Some fish just like it better this way I guess.” There was another long pause. “…and you?”
“Hanging out…” Seb shrugged and adjusted the collar of his hoodie.
“In the rain?” The irony of the retort wasn’t lost on either of them though only the farmer seemed to find it amusing.
“Some people just like it better this way too…” Seb declared as he shifted his posture and crossed his arms over his chest. “I like to come out here where it’s quiet and have some alone time with my own thoughts.” There was a brief moment of guilt when Sebastian realized that he hadn’t actually ever bothered to ask the farmer’s name, but his introverted nature snubbed it out pretty quickly.
“Well, if you’re out here for some alone time, I won’t keep bothering you. I’ll go find a spot to fish and leave you to it.” At least they could take a hint. The farmer turned to leave and Sebastian suddenly regretted the entire conversation. Maybe he came off as cold and bristly? Either way, they hadn’t meant any harm. Just engaging in basic pleasantries. He found himself compelled to say something else just so the conversation wouldn’t end on such a sour note, then the thought of the flying figure and the appearance of the strange egg in the farmer’s coop a while back suddenly popped into his head.
“Wait….” Sebastian flicked away the spent cigarette and stamped it out with the toe of his shoe before he continued. The farmer turned back in his direction. “I was just curious… do you remember what happened a couple of weeks ago? The night that… thing… flew over Pelican Town?” The farmer’s eyes narrowed and they nodded slowly. “That was the night that strange egg just showed up in your chicken coop, right?” The farmer looked bewildered. Seb chuckled soundlessly when he realized that, for at least a moment, he was acting like the epitome of some small town country boy who was nosing into someone else’s business. The farmer was likely confused because they hadn’t spoken to Sebastian about it directly. How could he know about that? They didn’t have to ask before he preemptively put the question to rest. “I was in the saloon playing pool with Sam the night after it happened. I overheard you talking about it with Gus, Willy and uh- …Rapunzel.” He explained. A tiny snort escaped the farmer’s nose as they stifled a laugh and they nodded again.
“Right… I still don’t know where it came from.” They rested the handle of the fishing pole on the dock like a staff or walking stick and looked up at the sky as if they were contemplating something. “I don’t know if the egg had anything to do with the flying figure, or if it was just a coincidence… they did both appear on the same night.”
“Everyone in town says that the flying thing was probably just some weird bird heading toward the islands…” Seb droned. He shoved his hands into his pockets to sooth the chill in his fingers. “If that IS where the egg came from, then maybe it was just a bird…” The farmer briskly shook their head before they answered.
“No, I don’t think so.” They rested a hand on their hip, fidgeted with the line strung through the fishing rod and seemed to gaze off into the distance towards the island in question. “That wouldn’t make sense considering what hatched.” Sebastian’s head snapped upright to meet their gaze. Now this was getting interesting.
“It actually hatched?!” He piped as his eyes widened inquisitively. “What was it?”
“A chicken…. And those can’t fly long distances.” The farmer chortled as they watched Sebastian’s face droop back to some semblance of apathy. He looked mildly disappointed.
“Aww…. Well that’s kind of anticlimactic.” He groaned.
“Yeah, sorry it’s not more exciting than that…” There was a sudden gust of wind and both of them had to brace against the pelting of raindrops that came with it. “It is a pretty peculiar looking chicken, if that makes you feel any better.”
“Really?... How so?” He gazed back at them expectantly and waited for them to go into detail.
“The feathers are jet black and the comb and wattles have a bit of an odd shape to them. The eyes are also bright red, like an animal with albinism and they’re almost reflective in the dark too… like a cat’s eyes.” They paused and rested their hand over the lower half of their face as if they were taking a moment to recall more of the specifics to memory. “And there’s just something about the way it clucks.” They added. “It doesn’t really cluck like a normal hen, but it sounds more like… an echo of a cluck, I suppose.”
“What?....” Sebastian laughed as his expression shifted again. The description of the noise sounded completely ridiculous. Not a cluck, but an echo of a cluck? They may as well have likened it to a phantom voice or the cry of a specter. Something that eluded the range of sounds that most humans would ever have the chance or perception to experience. The farmer lifted their eyes back to Sebastian’s as if they’d suddenly remembered something else.
“She started laying eggs a couple of days ago. They look just like the one that appeared in the coop that night…” They let the fishing pole drop from their hand to the wood planking of the dock and slipped their arm out of the left strap of their backpack. “I actually have one with me if you want to see it….” They slid the other strap off of their shoulder and swung the bag around their right side, letting it come to a rest in front of them as they knelt down. Seb took a few steps closer and stooped to get a better look as they dug through the contents.
They gingerly grasped what looked like a tiny bundle wrapped in a kerchief and began to slowly peel away the corners of the fabric, exposing what was probably the most bizarre looking egg he’d ever seen in his life. It was black and somewhat glossy, unlike the calcified matte shells of most chicken eggs, and the surface seemed to be covered in tiny indents or fissures that exposed flecks of a bright, almost luminescent red underneath. The farmer held the egg out to Sebastian as they stood up straight and nodded, silently offering to let him hold it for a closer look. He gently cupped the egg in his hands, tucked his arms in close to his body and cradled it in his palms like a cautious child trying to hold a hamster. It was heavier than he’d expected it to be, and surprisingly warm.
The color reminded him of magma or hot coals. Something like the intense heat glowing through crackling obsidian after a volcanic eruption or a dying fire. He leaned his head even closer to the egg as he examined the texture of the shell, and his nose wrinkled a bit when he caught the scent. It was sulphurous, and almost earthy smelling, but not overpoweringly so.
“It’s not rotten, is it?” he asked as he gently turned the egg over in his hands.
“See, that’s the strange thing about it. It can’t be…. That egg was just laid this morning.” They explained. “All of the eggs that hen lays have that… little whiff of something burning to them.” The rain was starting to slow up a bit. The farmer thought for a moment and giggled at the notion of what they said next. “I’m not inclined to say that they’re edible either… at least, not to people, and I wouldn’t be keen on being the first one to test that.” Sebastian winced at the thought…and smell, and stifled a laugh.
“Me neither…” He smiled softly when the red speckled pattern caught his attention again. “It does look really cool though!”
He really did have a nice smile. It was kind of a shame that he didn’t let people see it more often. His eyes brightened, and his face looked softer and more approachable, yet also, inquisitive and curious. It was a look of fascination and wonder. Like a kid who’d just discovered dinosaurs and outer space for the first time, or someone who’d just felt their first taste of freedom and didn’t quite know what to do with it. An imaginative or inspired sort of expression.
“Since you like it so much, why don’t you hang onto it?” the farmer beamed.
“Can I?” Sebastian’s eyes lit up again and he gazed back at the farmer with a delighted look on his face.
“Sure! Hens lay eggs every day or so. There’ll be more before long!” they chimed. Sebastian chuckled as he curled his fingers about the egg and sheltered it from the rain.
“Thank you!” He gazed at it for a few moments more as the farmer hefted the rucksack back onto their shoulders and pulled the fishing rod from it’s resting place on the dock. “Hey, this might sound kind of stupid….” He began as he gazed back and forth between the farmer and his new prize… “But, do you think it’ll hatch if I put it under my pillow?” he laughed awkwardly at his own question when he realized how foolish it must have sounded, but was pleasantly surprised when the farmer’s response was more optimistic than he had expected.
“Umm, I don’t know… Maybe! It’s worth a try anyway, and stranger things have happened.”
“Only one way to find out I guess!” Sebastian said smiling in anticipation.
“Good luck! You’ll have to let me know what happens!” They scanned out over the tides as if looking for something before turning back to Sebastian. “I should hurry and find a spot to fish before the rain stops again, but it was really nice talking to you!”
“Yeah, you too!” Seb agreed. “I’ll see you later!” He distracted himself for a moment, making sure the egg was tucked away safe and warm in his hoodie pocket, when he suddenly realized something. “Hey, wait!...” he quickly turned back to where the farmer had been standing just a minute before, but by the time he’d remembered what he’d needed to ask, they’d already trotted too far out of earshot to be able to hear him. “Aw, man… I forgot to catch their name again.” He lamented. “I’ll have to remember to ask them next time… Next time for sure.”
submitted by Powermetalbunny to StardewValley [link] [comments]
“A Gift From The Void”
It was only yesterday… No one was quite sure where it had come from. There had been a sinister cackling noise ringing through the night air and Abigail had mentioned seeing an unidentifiable shape soaring through the sky during her walk home from the cemetery. The townsfolk gossiped and speculated about what it could have been that evening, but by the next morning they still hadn’t come to any reasonable explanation. It was only yesterday, and yet the entire village seemed to have already put it out of their minds and moved on. The scandal and chatter following the “Anchovy Soup Incident” at the Summer Luau several years back had lasted far longer than this… Even now Sam was still getting sideways glances whenever he got within a 20 foot radius of the soup cauldron, but this just blows over in less than a day? The priorities of small town people were strange.
Things had gone back to that same semblance of backwater, middle-of-nowhere kind of normal, and now the night had become just the same as any other Friday evening. Sebastian was playing a round of billiards with Sam, and while Sam was preoccupied with lining up the cue with his intended target ball, the farmer strolled into the saloon and up to the bar. Heads turned and raised to the newcomer for a moment before returning to whatever it was that had been previously holding their attention. Sebastian caught the sudden flourish of movement out of his periphery, but didn’t pay it much mind. The farmer ordered a coffee and a plate of the night’s special, and struck up a conversation with Gus about a peculiar egg that had materialized in their coop seemingly out of nowhere the night before. Apparently they’d decided to tuck it away into the incubator and wait to see what… if anything hatched from it.
Sebastian had never really been one to eavesdrop, but the wait for Sam to make his move was becoming boring, and sometimes the stories that passed around the saloon on Friday evenings got interesting depending on who all was involved. The story didn’t really go too far into detail. The farmer poked at their food until it had cooled enough to not scald the inside of their mouth, then they took a few bites before bringing up the events of the previous evening. What first started off as a funny story seemed to turn into some deep discussion with Gus about the mysteries of life. Eventually, Willy and Elliott were caught up in the mirth and it turned into a medley of strange tales from faraway lands and once-upon-a-times. Obviously exaggerated sightings of fearsome creatures on a midnight stormy sea, legends of colossal white whales, references to works written by masters of the mystery genre, as well as some from a trashy neo-noir novel or two that had probably been picked up from a bookstore clearance shelf.
Willy stroked his beard and mused about some daring battle between himself and a fish of questionable proportions that seemed to grow larger each time he told the story. Sebastian had heard this one before. The fight over the line had gone on for over an hour before the shadow of the fish rose near to the surface, and just before Willy could land the monster of a catch, it dove below again, taking the whole fishing rod overboard and nearly Willy himself with it.
Elliott gulped down the last few swigs of ale in his tankard, slapped the farmer firmly on the back, snorted and chuckled in an ungraceful yet jolly display that only ever crept out of him when he’d had a bit too much to drink.
“That fish becomes more miraculous each time he talks about it!” Elliott shook his head and smiled as he leaned almost a little too far forward. There was a slight sway to his posture and he tried to straighten his body back in line with the barstool. “To life, and her many little silly tricks of fate, my friends!” he declared. He raised the empty mug, and with his free hand, delicately tucked a few strands of stray hair behind his ear with the tips of his fingers. He rested his elbow back on the bar before he could lose his balance and sighed contently. Elliott’s cheeks were practically glowing red at this point and it was a wonder that he wasn’t slurring his words yet.
“Aye, you’ve all heard my fish story haven’t ye?” Willy chuckled. “How ‘bout the one about the Baba Yaga?” the farmer’s head tilted and they gazed curiously at the fisherman. Willy rested his foot on the crossbar of the barstool, lifted the rim of his hat out of his line of sight, and leaned into the counter. “Some know ‘er as the cannibal witch… others say she’s just a misunderstood haggard ol’ woman who lives alone out in woods or marshes. It’s said she lives a rickety old house that stands on chicken feet, and she likes to lure weary travelers into ‘er home, only to gobble ‘em up once they let their guard down. Apparently she’s especially fond of the taste of children…” He laughed in a hoarse tone and made strange spider-like gestures with his calloused hands as if he were telling campfire stories to a group of kids. The farmer’s nose wrinkled at the outlandish notion of some feral old woman devouring toddlers, and Willy laughed heartily at their reaction. “I think that last part the parents like to add into the story to frighten the little ones. It keeps ‘em from wondering into the forests and swamps alone at night.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes and glanced back to the pool table. He watched the cue ball clack into the twelve before the twelve bounced off the barriers in the corner of the table and rolled slowly to a stop on the felt surface without pocketing. Sam huffed and stood back upright.
“You really aren’t very good at this, are you?” Seb chimed as he returned his full attention to the game at hand. Sam grinned and laughed.
“Nope!”
“Watch and learn….” Sebastian took aim at the cue ball, and after a single firm strike, drove it into the tiny gap between the two and seven. The cue stopped hard, but the two and seven sped to the opposite corners of the foot of the table, each dropping into one of the corner pockets simultaneously. Sam scoffed and paced about the pool room, but looked back over his shoulder just in time to catch Sebastian with a triumphantly cheeky grin on his face. Sam clicked his tongue and lightly thumped the base of his cue stick into the floorboards.
“Show-off…” he mumbled.
Elliott lifted the rim of the empty vessel to his lips, then chuckled again as he noticed the absence of ale and gestured it in Gus’ direction.
“Good sir, my glass is empty and…. I’m a writer!”
“Maybe you should stop for tonight…” the farmer interjected. “You won’t be sober enough to start your next chapter in the morning!” Elliott rolled his eyes and leaned against the bar counter. He tried to give one of his best theatrically exasperated sighs, but when the exhale turned into a case of the hiccups, they knew he was down for the count. He smiled defiantly and tried his best to look dignified through the sudden spasms in his diaphragm and soused thousand yard stare.
“I-am fiiine… ne’re betta’…”
“…..Aaaand, there he goes…” Leah giggled from the end of the bar counter. “It’s like dropping a ton of bricks on a peach.”
“I oughtta’ help the ol’ scallywag home, I s’pose!” Willy groaned as he stood from the bar stool. He smiled as he hoisted one of Elliott’s arms over his shoulders and stood him up from the bar stool. “C’mon you menace… Let’s get ya home before you make a fool of yourself in front of all the lassies!” he chuckled. Sam took a moment to appreciate the situation at the bar counter. He shook his head and laughed, then took another shot at the 12 and missed horribly yet again.
“Easy does it there!” Emily cooed as she cleared away the empty tankard. “Try not to drop him too hard!” Elliott wobbled towards the door as Willy struggled to keep him upright, and just before they stepped out into the lukewarm summer evening, the farmer waved one last farewell and called out to the well marinated dandy-man as he staggered away.
“Nighty-night! Sleep tight, Rapunzel!” they chirped. Elliot responded to the joke by blowing an overly exaggerated kiss over his shoulder and daintily waiving his fingertips at the company in the saloon, then he nearly tripped over himself as he turned back to the path home. A couple of snorts, giggles and guffaws rose up over the music and chatter in the saloon and quickly melted back into the white noise once the moment passed.
Seb looked Sam in the eyes with a determined glare and smirked.
“Eight in the corner pocket….” Seb didn’t have a clear shot, but leaned over the table, reared back the stick and spiked it into the cue ball. It ricocheted from the bumper, side-swiped the eight, and put just enough force into the edge to cause it to spin sideways into the pocket he’d called. Sam laughed and scratched at the back of his head.
“Awwww, man…” he groaned. “You got me again!” Sam leaned against his cue stick and looked over the table before his eyes lit up in anticipation. “How about a best three out of five?” Abigail giggled at Sam’s request as she stretched and leaned back into the sofa.
“Give it up, blondie! He cooks your goose at this game EVERY single time…. You’re doomed.” She teased. “It’s getting late anyways…”
…
It had been almost a month since the odd shape had been spotted flying over town at this point. Seb and Abby had talked in depth about it, and though most of the other townsfolk had come to the conclusion that it had merely been some sort of exotic bird flying out toward the fern islands, Abby was positive she hadn’t been mistaken. In fact she was adamant that the form looked human. She hadn’t seen or heard any wings flapping and the “squawking” sounded more so like the laugh of an old woman than the cries of a bird. The figure seemed to levitate or hover effortlessly and without the use of any physical or mechanical assistance. It was slumped over as if it was curled up or sitting and just…. Floated away.
The long night spent coding and researching the relevant programing issues at the computer, had caused Sebastian to rise late. He was groggy, didn’t have much motivation to bother rolling out of bed, and it was almost noon at this point. He could hear the rain pattering against the roof of the house and the rumble of distant thunder. As lazy as he felt, a smoke sounded pretty good about now. The sound and sight of the ocean on rainy days also had a way of clearing his head and a little stroll would probably do him some good.
He didn’t pass anyone on the way out of the house. Robin was likely at her aerobics club, Maru, at work in the clinic, and who knew where Demetrius was… Out shoving dirt samples into test tubes, or measuring the volume and PH of the current rainfall? As long as he wasn’t dissecting frogs. Out of all of Sebastian’s childhood memories, that was the one that stuck in his head and haunted him. Back then, Maru had only just been born, and while Robin was busy keeping her entertained, fixing her bottle or changing diapers, Seb was wandering the house trying to find something to occupy his time. He’d wandered into his step-father’s study and there on the examination tray was a deceased frog pinned on it’s back, limbs splayed like Da Vinci’s “Vitruvian Man” with it’s belly sliced open. Sebastian had cried and pouted over that for several days and had given Demetrius the silent treatment for even days longer intermixed with spells of arm crossing, head turning and the occasional stuck out tongue and blown raspberry. He cringed at the thought even now.
The hinges creaked as he pushed the front door open and paused. The summer was starting to give way to autumn and the parched ground soaked up the rain and turned loose the pungent, almost overpowering scent of petrichor.
Sebastian flipped the hood of his pull-over around his head and tightened up the drawstrings. He took a moment to smell the aroma of wet grass and earth that drifted through the air and held the fragrance in his lungs as he closed the door behind him.
He began his slow, steady march toward the beach and lost count of his steps after he’d passed the old Community Center. He’d barely noticed the changing of terrain under his feet as he moved almost subconsciously toward the ocean. The raw, muddy dirt paths of the mountain, the crunch of rough stones and shuffle of old, dead pine needles that carpeted the ground… They’d transitioned into the grass and cobblestone of the town plaza at some point, but they all seemed to blend together into “just steps” after a while. His inner thoughts distracted him to the point where he barely paid attention to his surroundings until he felt his footfalls sinking and shifting underneath him, and he knew he’d hit sand. He heaved a deep sigh of the salt air and looked over the horizon as he paced toward the docks.
When the sky was this gray and muted, the color of the sea seemed to take on it’s own jewel-like quality and without the blue sky to draw attention away from it, the eyes of each breaking wave became a splendor to watch. They erupted into columns of aquamarine, sapphire and sodalite laced with the bright, almost pearlescent white of the sea foam before curling over, crashing into the tides and giving way to the next one.
Sebastian came to a stop at the furthest reaching section of the wood panels and straightened up his posture as he groped into his pockets for the pack of cigarettes he’d brought with him. He selected one from the box, tucked it between his teeth and plunged his fingers back into the pocket for his lighter. He curled his left hand in front of his face, to protect the fire from the wind, flicked open the lid and thumbed the igniter. The flint sparked into a flame as it spun and lit up the end of the cigarette to a smoldering red glow. He pulled in a breath and held it for a moment before letting it out and watching the smoke dance away in the wind. It still wasn’t quite as satisfying as that first breath of rain when he’d stepped out of the house. Another sigh escaped Seb’s lips as he stared back at the oncoming crests of seawater and his mind started to drift again.
He imagined the city lights blazing somewhere across the ocean like stars, and thought about starting over somewhere far away. Disappearing, and reappearing somewhere else like a shadow moving through fragments of darkness and light, somewhere where no one knew him. Just vanishing and leaving everything behind. His parents, his sister, his friends… the thought excited him for a moment, before giving way to an intense feeling of regret and sadness. Maybe even a little shame. Having everyone was frustrating, but would having none of them be better or worse? He’d never known anything else. The same friends he’d grown up with, the same smell of the changing seasons in the mountain air, the same four walls of his bedroom, the sound of his sister’s laugh, or the taste of his mother’s cooking… even the way his stepfather overreacted to the littlest things was something he'd grown used to. He took another long breath.
The waves lapped and pounded at the underside of the dock so loudly he couldn’t hear the patter of oncoming footfalls against the wood and he was caught unaware when a sudden presence made itself known.
“Hey.” The start was enough to make him tense up, and he almost tripped over his own feet. Seb whirled around and when he found himself face to face with the farmer, he relaxed again.
“You scared the absolute crap out of me…..” He said as he rolled his eyes. He flicked his thumb against the filter of the cigarette to knock away the ashes and looked over the docks. They were alone.
“Sorry….” There was an awkward moment of silence between the two of them before Sebastian tried to force conversation.
“What are you up to out here?” He asked. He wasn’t really interested in the answer, but felt obligated to return the acknowledgement of his presence. The farmer held up the rod that was firmly clasped in their right hand and gestured to the ocean.
“Fishing!” Seb raised an eyebrow and cocked his head at the response.
“In the rain?” he asked. His tone was almost dismissive. The farmer nodded.
“Willy said that there’s a number of fish that only come out when it’s raining, so I wanted to see what bites.” They began. “Some fish just like it better this way I guess.” There was another long pause. “…and you?”
“Hanging out…” Seb shrugged and adjusted the collar of his hoodie.
“In the rain?” The irony of the retort wasn’t lost on either of them though only the farmer seemed to find it amusing.
“Some people just like it better this way too…” Seb declared as he shifted his posture and crossed his arms over his chest. “I like to come out here where it’s quiet and have some alone time with my own thoughts.” There was a brief moment of guilt when Sebastian realized that he hadn’t actually ever bothered to ask the farmer’s name, but his introverted nature snubbed it out pretty quickly.
“Well, if you’re out here for some alone time, I won’t keep bothering you. I’ll go find a spot to fish and leave you to it.” At least they could take a hint. The farmer turned to leave and Sebastian suddenly regretted the entire conversation. Maybe he came off as cold and bristly? Either way, they hadn’t meant any harm. Just engaging in basic pleasantries. He found himself compelled to say something else just so the conversation wouldn’t end on such a sour note, then the thought of the flying figure and the appearance of the strange egg in the farmer’s coop a while back suddenly popped into his head.
“Wait….” Sebastian flicked away the spent cigarette and stamped it out with the toe of his shoe before he continued. The farmer turned back in his direction. “I was just curious… do you remember what happened a couple of weeks ago? The night that… thing… flew over Pelican Town?” The farmer’s eyes narrowed and they nodded slowly. “That was the night that strange egg just showed up in your chicken coop, right?” The farmer looked bewildered. Seb chuckled soundlessly when he realized that, for at least a moment, he was acting like the epitome of some small town country boy who was nosing into someone else’s business. The farmer was likely confused because they hadn’t spoken to Sebastian about it directly. How could he know about that? They didn’t have to ask before he preemptively put the question to rest. “I was in the saloon playing pool with Sam the night after it happened. I overheard you talking about it with Gus, Willy and uh- …Rapunzel.” He explained. A tiny snort escaped the farmer’s nose as they stifled a laugh and they nodded again.
“Right… I still don’t know where it came from.” They rested the handle of the fishing pole on the dock like a staff or walking stick and looked up at the sky as if they were contemplating something. “I don’t know if the egg had anything to do with the flying figure, or if it was just a coincidence… they did both appear on the same night.”
“Everyone in town says that the flying thing was probably just some weird bird heading toward the islands…” Seb droned. He shoved his hands into his pockets to sooth the chill in his fingers. “If that IS where the egg came from, then maybe it was just a bird…” The farmer briskly shook their head before they answered.
“No, I don’t think so.” They rested a hand on their hip, fidgeted with the line strung through the fishing rod and seemed to gaze off into the distance towards the island in question. “That wouldn’t make sense considering what hatched.” Sebastian’s head snapped upright to meet their gaze. Now this was getting interesting.
“It actually hatched?!” He piped as his eyes widened inquisitively. “What was it?”
“A chicken…. And those can’t fly long distances.” The farmer chortled as they watched Sebastian’s face droop back to some semblance of apathy. He looked mildly disappointed.
“Aww…. Well that’s kind of anticlimactic.” He groaned.
“Yeah, sorry it’s not more exciting than that…” There was a sudden gust of wind and both of them had to brace against the pelting of raindrops that came with it. “It is a pretty peculiar looking chicken, if that makes you feel any better.”
“Really?... How so?” He gazed back at them expectantly and waited for them to go into detail.
“The feathers are jet black and the comb and wattles have a bit of an odd shape to them. The eyes are also bright red, like an animal with albinism and they’re almost reflective in the dark too… like a cat’s eyes.” They paused and rested their hand over the lower half of their face as if they were taking a moment to recall more of the specifics to memory. “And there’s just something about the way it clucks.” They added. “It doesn’t really cluck like a normal hen, but it sounds more like… an echo of a cluck, I suppose.”
“What?....” Sebastian laughed as his expression shifted again. The description of the noise sounded completely ridiculous. Not a cluck, but an echo of a cluck? They may as well have likened it to a phantom voice or the cry of a specter. Something that eluded the range of sounds that most humans would ever have the chance or perception to experience. The farmer lifted their eyes back to Sebastian’s as if they’d suddenly remembered something else.
“She started laying eggs a couple of days ago. They look just like the one that appeared in the coop that night…” They let the fishing pole drop from their hand to the wood planking of the dock and slipped their arm out of the left strap of their backpack. “I actually have one with me if you want to see it….” They slid the other strap off of their shoulder and swung the bag around their right side, letting it come to a rest in front of them as they knelt down. Seb took a few steps closer and stooped to get a better look as they dug through the contents.
They gingerly grasped what looked like a tiny bundle wrapped in a kerchief and began to slowly peel away the corners of the fabric, exposing what was probably the most bizarre looking egg he’d ever seen in his life. It was black and somewhat glossy, unlike the calcified matte shells of most chicken eggs, and the surface seemed to be covered in tiny indents or fissures that exposed flecks of a bright, almost luminescent red underneath. The farmer held the egg out to Sebastian as they stood up straight and nodded, silently offering to let him hold it for a closer look. He gently cupped the egg in his hands, tucked his arms in close to his body and cradled it in his palms like a cautious child trying to hold a hamster. It was heavier than he’d expected it to be, and surprisingly warm.
The color reminded him of magma or hot coals. Something like the intense heat glowing through crackling obsidian after a volcanic eruption or a dying fire. He leaned his head even closer to the egg as he examined the texture of the shell, and his nose wrinkled a bit when he caught the scent. It was sulphurous, and almost earthy smelling, but not overpoweringly so.
“It’s not rotten, is it?” he asked as he gently turned the egg over in his hands.
“See, that’s the strange thing about it. It can’t be…. That egg was just laid this morning.” They explained. “All of the eggs that hen lays have that… little whiff of something burning to them.” The rain was starting to slow up a bit. The farmer thought for a moment and giggled at the notion of what they said next. “I’m not inclined to say that they’re edible either… at least, not to people, and I wouldn’t be keen on being the first one to test that.” Sebastian winced at the thought…and smell, and stifled a laugh.
“Me neither…” He smiled softly when the red speckled pattern caught his attention again. “It does look really cool though!”
He really did have a nice smile. It was kind of a shame that he didn’t let people see it more often. His eyes brightened, and his face looked softer and more approachable, yet also, inquisitive and curious. It was a look of fascination and wonder. Like a kid who’d just discovered dinosaurs and outer space for the first time, or someone who’d just felt their first taste of freedom and didn’t quite know what to do with it. An imaginative or inspired sort of expression.
“Since you like it so much, why don’t you hang onto it?” the farmer beamed.
“Can I?” Sebastian’s eyes lit up again and he gazed back at the farmer with a delighted look on his face.
“Sure! Hens lay eggs every day or so. There’ll be more before long!” they chimed. Sebastian chuckled as he curled his fingers about the egg and sheltered it from the rain.
“Thank you!” He gazed at it for a few moments more as the farmer hefted the rucksack back onto their shoulders and pulled the fishing rod from it’s resting place on the dock. “Hey, this might sound kind of stupid….” He began as he gazed back and forth between the farmer and his new prize… “But, do you think it’ll hatch if I put it under my pillow?” he laughed awkwardly at his own question when he realized how foolish it must have sounded, but was pleasantly surprised when the farmer’s response was more optimistic than he had expected.
“Umm, I don’t know… Maybe! It’s worth a try anyway, and stranger things have happened.”
“Only one way to find out I guess!” Sebastian said smiling in anticipation.
“Good luck! You’ll have to let me know what happens!” They scanned out over the tides as if looking for something before turning back to Sebastian. “I should hurry and find a spot to fish before the rain stops again, but it was really nice talking to you!”
“Yeah, you too!” Seb agreed. “I’ll see you later!” He distracted himself for a moment, making sure the egg was tucked away safe and warm in his hoodie pocket, when he suddenly realized something. “Hey, wait!...” he quickly turned back to where the farmer had been standing just a minute before, but by the time he’d remembered what he’d needed to ask, they’d already trotted too far out of earshot to be able to hear him. “Aw, man… I forgot to catch their name again.” He lamented. “I’ll have to remember to ask them next time… Next time for sure.”
2024.05.18 08:59 wiloso47 I wanna make an Investigation game but how to proceed? (CoC)
My game will have the story of "A body has been found in the Gatito manor, eyes ripped of his skull! Ansur Gatito, the owner of the manor called the Investigators to help him find the culprit before the night of Carnaval, when the culprit could get away and vanish forever"
So, the idea of this run is, the players will explore the Manors of Gatito and another one with a Carnaval party, and them solve down the crime and find who done it. Thing is, how to run a investigation on Foundry?
Do I leave some Journal notes lying around for players to find? How to build a map that would the player walk around looking for them?
I expect the players to roam around the map while one goes to do the Autopsy and do stuff, what are your experiences with it?
Thanks in advance for the ideas :D
submitted by wiloso47 to FoundryVTT [link] [comments]
So, the idea of this run is, the players will explore the Manors of Gatito and another one with a Carnaval party, and them solve down the crime and find who done it. Thing is, how to run a investigation on Foundry?
Do I leave some Journal notes lying around for players to find? How to build a map that would the player walk around looking for them?
I expect the players to roam around the map while one goes to do the Autopsy and do stuff, what are your experiences with it?
Thanks in advance for the ideas :D
2024.05.18 08:57 wiloso47 How to run a Investigation game on FoundryVTT?
My game will have the story of "A body has been found in the Gatito manor, eyes ripped of his skull! Ansur Gatito, the owner of the manor called the Investigators to help him find the culprit before the night of Carnaval, when the culprit could get away and vanish forever"
So, the idea of this run is, the players will explore the Manors of Gatito and another one with a Carnaval party, and them solve down the crime and find who done it. Thing is, how to run a investigation on Foundry?
Do I leave some Journal notes lying around for players to find? How to build a map that would the player walk around looking for them?
I expect the players to roam around the map while one goes to do the Autopsy and do stuff, what are your experiences with it?
Thanks in advance for the ideas :D
submitted by wiloso47 to callofcthulhu [link] [comments]
So, the idea of this run is, the players will explore the Manors of Gatito and another one with a Carnaval party, and them solve down the crime and find who done it. Thing is, how to run a investigation on Foundry?
Do I leave some Journal notes lying around for players to find? How to build a map that would the player walk around looking for them?
I expect the players to roam around the map while one goes to do the Autopsy and do stuff, what are your experiences with it?
Thanks in advance for the ideas :D